


Desolation of My Foot Up Your Ass

by TheWanderingNine



Series: The Hobbit-verse [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cultural Differences, F/M, Fluff, IRA - Freeform, Mind Numbing Obliviousness, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Sexual Tension, and an absurd amount of, just a smattering of, movie-verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-05 19:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1829347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingNine/pseuds/TheWanderingNine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No sign of the emotional maturity that would lead the average girl to stop referring to life as 'that one part in the movie', Ira continues to plod on through the events of Desolation of Smaug. If life threatening encounters with animated rock giants, molestation by goblins, and orcs on wargs doesn't do the trick, what will?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Would Eagles Taste More Like Chicken Or Turkey?

**Author's Note:**

> If you're returning from part one, welcome back! If you're here for the first time, welcome also! This chapter begins part 2 of Ira's life through the events of The Hobbit movies, specifically Desolation of Smaug (plus the tail-end scene of the first movie). Check out the first part of the series to get to know Ira from day one in Middle Earth up 'til now. :)

When Ira woke up the first thing she wished was that she really hadn't.

_Everything_ hurt. And she was freezing. Wincing when she tried to lift her head up, because at the moment it was apparently just dangling in mid air right now, her neck twinged, and she realized it was hard to get air through her throat. Her arms were loosely trapped at her sides, and for a moment she was afraid she'd been captured and taken hostage or something.

Which thankfully lead to her noticing the eagle above her. Oh, right. It would explain the wind rushing by her ears, which were numb. Ira wriggled around a bit to free an arm and felt at her neck. It was puffy and sensitive so she assumed it was probably swollen. That would be why she was having trouble breathing, anyways.

“Way to go,” she croaked, remembering back to her little stunt on the cliff. What the actual fuck had she been _thinking_? Running headlong at an orc on a warg. She was lucky to be alive right now. Ira could imagine perfectly the trouble she was going to be in when Thorin woke up.

It was still night time right now. She couldn't have been out long, could she? Ira shifted awkwardly in the eagle's loose hold on her to peer about and find the others, but for the most part all she could really see was the black silhouette of her giant eagle above her. But hey! She found her sword. It was cuddled up to her leg, so she wormed it up high enough to sheath it, safe and sound at her hip where it belonged.

The eagle must not have liked all her moving around, though, because she felt it flexing its toes around her, and it was bobbing more violently as it did something to change the way it was flying. Whatever it was doing was making her very nervous.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Eagle, take it easy, will you? What's the deal?” She rambled. Her voice, what she could hear of it over the wind, was raspy and deep, like a cat coughing, and the vibration in her throat from talking hurt. Her assessment of herself was promptly diverted when she was suddenly let go.

Her chest burst with that feeling of sudden free-fall, and her stomach relocated itself to somewhere other than in her body. The eagle had just _dropped her_. So she was falling. Again. And again she couldn't manage to get a peep out while she fell.

Then she thumped against something solid but soft. It still hurt a lot, thanks, because right now she was bruised, sore, cut up, and still very, very exhausted. Ira was sensing a pattern here, and she didn't like it one Goddamn bit. There was entirely too much plummeting, and teeth-chipping landing on things going on in her life lately.

“I ever see you again, bird, I'm going to make you for Thanksgiving, I swear to God,” she grumbled, gripping the feathers of her new eagle tightly. Like hell this one was going to get rid of her as easily as the last one. It was warmer here on its back, at least, so there was that.

For a while Ira simply lay there. She couldn't hear anything besides the wing beats of the eagles and the wind. There wasn't anything to do, either. At first she was afraid to move much, since she thought that's what made the first eagle dump her, but after so long she felt restless. Slowly, with just tiny shifts at a time, she managed to turn so they were back to back with her pack under her head for a pillow. Ira rubbed at her stomach, hunger just being another feeling vying for attention. Instead of thinking about food she watched the sky as they flew on. It was rather pretty up there, what with the clouds, and the moonlight and stars. It was the only distraction she had anyways.

Drowsiness was starting to fog up her brain now though, and really it was amazing she had been able to stay awake this long. So when her eyelids started drooping she just let herself fall asleep, vaguely wondering if when she woke up they'd be at their drop off point.


	2. Team Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter we get away from movie scenes, at least for a little while. Also, fluff. D'aw.

The next thing she knew the ground was getting friendly with her face.

“Ow,” she said mildly, every bruise, injury and sore muscle all over her body flaring up. The eagle she had been riding on must have rolled her off its back. Which meant they were about to watch Thorin pay Bilbo his due respects.

_Oh_ , yeah. She'd _so_ been waiting for this moment.

Gandalf was kneeling over Thorin's body, muttering to himself. Ira never really understood what was going on just then. Was Thorin in worse shape than everyone thought? For that matter, what sort of spell was Gandalf casting to fix him? Either way, whatever it is, it worked. Thorin cracked his eyes open soon after.

The others were all grouped up in front of her, the two nearest to Thorin rushing in to help him to his feet. Right now he had eyes only for Bilbo.

“You,” Thorin said roughly. Bilbo's face took on an apprehensive look. “What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed.”

Bilbo took a couple steps back, and she saw him swallow thickly. He opened and closed his mouth, unsure how to respond.

“Did I not say you would be a burden?” Thorin pressed, limping closer. “That you would not survive in the wild. That you had no place amongst us.”

The rest of the company shifted on their feet, anxious about what was happening. Ira kept quiet. Poor Bilbo looked like he was ready to start crying, and if she didn't know how this was going to play out she would be right back there in Thorin's bearded face giving him a piece of her mind. Honestly, who says they're sorry by starting off like this? Thorin Oakenshield, ladies and gentlemen.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life,” Thorin finally breathed, reaching out and pulling Bilbo into a hug.

The rest of them broke out into cheers. It still hurt her throat to make noise, so she just grinned widely at the look of shock and dawning happiness on Bilbo's face. He returned Thorin's hug, and they held a few moments more before letting go.

“I am sorry I doubted you.”

“I would have doubted me, too...” Bilbo shrugged self deprecatingly. “I'm not a hero. Or a warrior. I'm not even a burglar,” he said, smirking and shrugged again. They all smiled back good naturedly.

Ira watched the eagles flying away before facing back around towards the Lonely Mountain. She stayed in the back since she was taller than everyone (looking at you, Gandalf; down in front) while they stared off at their far away home. When she thought about it Thorin must have already passed out by the time she tried taking on that orc, so he didn't see what had happened, and she was totally okay with it staying that way. Bilbo, in his happy mood, made the comment about the worst being behind them, but she wouldn't spoil it for anyone. Ira may not have seen the third movie yet so she didn't know everything that was going to happen later after Smaug's escape from Erebor, aside from...

No, she'll worry about that later. One thing was one-hundred and ten percent sure though, the worst was most definitely not over. For starters they had to climb down this really tall rock.

“Ye look a sight, lassie,” Dwalin said in the nicest yet still gruff tone she'd ever heard him use towards her yet. This was apparently the day for fuzzies in the tummies.

“I feel it, that's for sure,” she grunted, limping heavily down the carved steps with the rest of them. Her body was _beyond_ abused.

“We get down t'the bottom of these stairs an' into the forest I'll 'ave a look-see with what herbs there's t'be found,” Oin said.

“And hopefully water. I think one of those goblins must have left his spleen in my hair,” Ira muttered, touching the dried, matted patches on her head. There were a few chuckles at this, and it made her smile, too. Even if she might not be so far off from the mark on that one.

The sun was setting and not rising, surprisingly. The eagles had flown for all of that night and the next day before reaching the rock they were dumped on. All the dwarves, and her, needed to go to the bathroom, so that was the first order of business. The clothes she was wearing were in really bad shape. Spattered in black blood from goblins, but there were other rusty-red spots from her own injuries. She looked like she got in a fight with Edward Scissorhands' bad-tempered cousin and lost, but she didn't want to change into anything clean until she washed first.

They scouted out a tiny creek, and got a fire going to cook what food they had left, which was precious little. Kili had lost his bow back at the mountain so they couldn't rely on anything being shot. Everyone was rifling through what managed to survive the trip. Bombur had a medium sized pot hidden somewhere on him that whole time, so that's what they were using to boil water in for clean strips of clothe to use as bandages.

Ira gingerly sat to inspect her pack. The bottom had been shredded to bits so she was missing several pieces of clothes and her bedroll. Awesome. She was also missing pieces of her armor. Her left arm was bare, the sleeve ripped completely off from her shoulder and the metal bracer along with it.

Washing off the blood, sweat, and dirt took a long time with such a shallow source of water and fifteen members of the company all needing a bath. Gandalf, she noticed, didn't really seem to need a wash. Lucky fuck with his magic and anti-grime wizarding powers or whatever it is that kept him fairly clean all the time. It was well after sundown before they were all relatively fresh again, and she was inspecting all the bruises and cuts she could see on herself by the fire. Oin had checked her over, wanting to make sure she was okay. He did the same for everyone in the company, but he lingered the most with her. 

Thorin took particular interest in the large, hand-shaped bruise blooming over the underside of her forearm.

“Miss Ira,” he rumbled, stepping into her line of sight. She looked up at him from where she was sat and raised her eyebrows. “I am told of your part played in the fight at the cliff.”

Oh, shit. Ira cringed at his words. So she wouldn't be off the hook after all. And when did that happen? She hadn't heard any of them mention it.

“Do not mistake me. What you did was foolish in the extreme. Had it not been for my nephews you _would_ be dead, and yet... you have fought for the company bravely, as any warrior would, and indeed saved not only my life, but those of my kin. It would appear I misjudged you and Master Baggins both,” he paused then, glancing at the bruise he had made on her arm again. “And for that I am sorry.”

Thorin reached out to grip her shoulder, which was still a bit tender so his grip hurt a little, but right now she was too stunned to say anything about it. All she could manage to do was blink at him with an open mouth and wide eyes. He nodded at her once, and then left her to stare after him as he strode away. She definitely wasn't expecting _that_.

“What, I don't get a hug?” She asked belatedly.

“You still look like an elf,” Thorin called back at her, his tone suggesting that maybe it could be taken as an attempt at a joke. Maybe. It toed the line.

Several of the company laughed, and when she was over being stunned again she grinned back at them. Bilbo in particular was beaming at her, like he had been waiting on her scene just like she had waited for his. Where was a phone when you needed one to record historic moments like these? Thorin Oakenshield apologizing _twice_ in one day.

“I can't help but notice,” she rasped later on when everyone but Dori, who was on first watch that night, was working on bedding down, “that all of you seemed to have come out of that with barely a scratch. What the fuck, guys? I look like I was tossed into a tornado but hardly any of you even have a limp.”

“We're dwarves,” Gloin crowed loudly. He puffed his chest up a bit, too. “We're as strong as the toughest stone!”

“What I wouldn't give right now to be a dwarf, then,” she sighed, wrapping up in her worse-for-wear cloak and squeezing in between Nori and Kili. Dwalin and Thorin might have treated her better today, but she wasn't about to start pushing her luck by laying down beside them.

“Ye'd make a good dwarf, lass. Brave, hale, an' true. Couldn'ae ask for more,” Balin said proudly. 

There were several quiet 'ayes' to follow (with a couple grunts thrown in), and Ira couldn't help smiling happily to herself. Hearing them say that made a warmth bloom in her chest, and she rubbed her face into Kili's shoulder. He chuckled softly at her behavior, and she fell asleep like that, battered in body but not in spirit.


	3. Did Somebody Order A Dwarven Harem?

They had to have gone over a lot of ground with the eagles, but still, Thorin wouldn't linger. Ira remembered the orcs being close on their heels in the beginning of the second movie, so it was only a matter of time. She understood, she really did.

But that didn't make it suck any less.

On the upside it was warmer in the forest they were in. At least during the day. She had to stow away her cloak, and her armor, or she'd sweat herself to death. Thorin, in an incredibly indulgent mood or something, even allowed a slower pace to start off with. That first day they took frequent rests. During these rests Oin became her shadow, making sure she hadn't made any of her injuries worse. He also made her this mushy, weird smelling paste, so her cuts wouldn't get infected.

“Ye Menfolk catch ailments easier 'n breathin',” he grumbled, but Ira could tell his mother henning was because he was genuinely worried she might get sick.

Fili, Kili, Ori, Bofur, Gloin and Bilbo also hovered close by, which was super nice of them and everything, but she was getting kind of tired of several hands reaching out when she so much as stumbled, voices asking, 'do ye need any help?'. The only one that didn't do any of those things was Fili. He never really came _too_ close, either, but he watched her like a hawk instead of a hen, and sometimes it made her skin itch.

“Guys,” she finally huffed, half annoyed and half amused when she looked around her at the cluster of dwarves as they walked on. “I appreciate the concern, I really do, but I'm not made of glass. I'm _fine_ , I promise.”

It took a little bit, but eventually they decided to believe her when she didn't drop dead in the grass. Slowly, one by one, they drifted away, giving her her space back.

Traveling as banged up as she was was a trial in and of itself, though, she wasn't ganna lie. For one thing her leggings were rubbing painfully against the cuts on her thighs, since they were so form fitting. Ira still had her shorts, so that would take care of the problem easily, but her leg hair had grown in all the way now. She would need to do something about that before anyone saw her bare legs again. 

Thankfully, on their second day of huffing it through the woods, they found a real stream to wash up in.

“Kili,” she whispered, hiding behind a tree. Kili looked back at her, cocking his head a bit, a confused smile on his face. She'd finished bathing, her shorts on now, but there was still one more thing she had to do yet.

“What are you hiding over there for?” He asked. This unfortunately got a lot of the company's attention. She glared at him.

“I need to shave my legs. Can you just lend me a knife, please?” She hissed impatiently, holding a hand out towards him.

Kili simply stared at her. Him and several others, but then all of their faces scrunched into various expressions of confusion, offense and exasperation.

“What? What'd I do this time?”

“Why would ye ever wanna shave your _legs_?” Nori sniffed. “Ye've got precious little hair as is.”

“What, don't the women here shave?” Ira frowned. They all made some sort of gesture, shook their heads, or said very adamantly, _no_. Like the idea alone was too appalling to consider. “Well, if it's such a bad concept then why do _you_ guys do it?”

She could tell the instant she'd asked it was the wrong thing to say. They all tensed, looking away from her or glaring in a few cases.

“Ye dunnae know this, lass, so ye aren't t'blame, but I'll let ye know now that dwarrow only cut hair in shame.” Balin's tone was kind, but he had a serious expression on his face. Ira looked away from his eyes to stare at her feet, properly chagrined.

“Oh...” she murmured. Looking back up at everyone she cringed sheepishly. She ought to start keeping a list of the times and ways she made a social faux pas. Ira was well on her way to being able to write a book about it. “I'm sorry, guys. I never thought it was like that.”

“Ye never do much thinking at all, I'd say,” Dwalin said gruffly. Ira huffed, and flashed him her middle finger from behind her tree. He just shook his head at her. This was actually a pretty friendly reaction, for Dwalin anyways. 

Hesitantly she came out from behind her tree, and shuffled over to her spot in camp. Even though they gave her the impression that body hair wasn't as bad as she thought it was, she was still self-conscious about her legs, and it showed.

“Why d'you wanna shave the hair from your legs, then?” Ori asked curiously. “Somethin' to do with traditions from your world?”

“I guess you could say that. Women from America generally shave most of their hair off. They shave their legs, their armpits. Sometimes their arms, too.” Ira wasn't even going to mention pubes at this point. Nope. Not going there.

“ _Why_?”

They were making faces again. It was like someone farted in the middle of a quiet dinner, and normally she would find this all sort of funny, if she hadn't put her foot in her mouth a few seconds ago. She sat on her cloak on the ground, and picked at some grass.

“Well...” Good question. “Because they're taught to, I guess. We just... get used to the idea that if you want to not be looked at like you're gross, you have to have bare legs and underarms.” Now Ira was making an ugly face. It sounded so stupid put that way, but that's how it was. She ran a hand down her shin thoughtfully. Her leg hair wasn't even that impressive, anyways. Kili had more on his arm than she did both her legs combined.

“Ye sure come from a strange people, lass,” Bofur said, sitting next to her. His tone was teasing, but he was being honest, too.

“That means I'm strange, too, right?” She smirked at him.

“The strangest, aye.” He laughed when she shoved at his shoulder.

At least she didn't have to be ashamed of her body hair with the company, so that was kind of cool. It'd probably take a while more before she was completely over being insecure about it, though. Years of growing up learning that hairlessness was a desired default for being a girl might just be a little hard to get over in one afternoon. How the tables have turned, she thought.

The atmosphere in the camp mellowed out, and thankfully nobody seemed to have taken her blunder personally. Dwalin and Thorin brought up the issue of what they needed to do if they wanted to eat anything that night, and while they discussed hunting plans she busied herself rubbing the gunk Oin gave her on her cuts.

The company ended up splitting into two groups. Ira was in group one, and they stayed at camp. Group two went off to see if they could snag something for dinner. She was spending her time with Ori, watching him sketch out charcoal pictures of mushrooms, and he was telling her how to know if they were safe to eat. Ira probably wouldn't remember all of it, but she nodded once in a while as he talked because she was at least listening.

“Peaches!” Kili crowed as he and the rest of group two came walking back into camp a while later. By then the sun was setting, and everyone was pretty hungry.

They had lucked out from the looks of it. Dori had a deer loped around his shoulders, and Fili with several rabbits hanging about the belt at his hip. Kili held up the sack full of wild peaches, and a couple of dirty onions in his other hand.

“Yum!” Ira rubbed her hands together. She _loved_ peaches. Thanking Ori she climbed to her feet, and made a beeline right for them as he set the sack down next to Bombur. She got a wooden spoon across her knuckles when she went to reach for one.

“Ah ah, bad Ira,” Kili said, grinning. “These are for later!”

“Stingy,” she grumbled, rubbing her hand.

That didn't stop Nori from sneaking one when Kili moved away, and Bombur was busy getting the pot ready over the fire. Ira watched him take his prize away, jealous of his filching skills. Totally not sulking, she settled in next to Bombur, taking the knife he offered her and started cutting up an onion.

When everything was all set up over the fire, she moved over next to some trees to rinse as much of the smell of onions from her fingers as she could.

“Ssst,” Nori hissed lowly, making her jump.

“What - ” she started, but he signaled for her to shut up. She closed her mouth, and when he gestured for her to come around the tree he was hiding behind she did. “What's the deal, Nori?” Ira whispered.

He didn't say anything, but he did take out the peach he nicked along with a knife. Nori cut the peach in half, not caring if he got juice all over his fingers, and held out a half. She blinked down at it for a moment.

“Dude,” she said, looking back up and grinning at him widely. “That's totally sweet of you.”

Nori hmphed, and shook his offering at her. She took her half of the peach, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Nori was never one to really get flustered, around her or at anything that happened to them on this adventure of theirs (if walking mountains didn't phase him much he must have really seen some shit in his day), so her chaste peck was met with an unreadable stare.

“Thanks,” she said. They shared their peach in companionable silence. He was the first to finish eating, and when he did he nodded at her once before he disappeared around the tree.

Between thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, a wizard, and a human girl, all of whom were basically half-starved, the deer, rabbits, and peaches didn't really go very far. Still, at least she could say her stomach wasn't trying to eat its way to her ass anymore.

“Would that we had more,” Bofur sighed next to her, staring forlornly at his pile of clean bones.

“No use wishin' for that which we dunnae have,” Dwalin rumbled.

“We can find more to hunt tomorrow,” Bilbo said, trying to sound optimistic.

Bofur smiled at him where he was sat. “Aye, tomorrow's another day, as they say,” he said.

They bedded down soon after that. It must have only been a few hours into the night when she woke up, a whimper stuck in her still a bit swollen and very bruised throat, and her heart beating fast in her chest. It took her a few moments to realize she wasn't in the goblin cave. The others were sound asleep all around her, and she counted each of them in the dark, naming them off in her head until she had calmed down.

“ _Hulîth_?” A raspy voice whispered. Ira looked around, and in the moonlight coming through the trees she could see Bifur off a ways.

She got to her feet as quietly as she could, and slowly made her way over to him. In all her time with the company she sort of stayed clear of Bifur. He rarely spoke, but when he did it was never really to her, and she never understood what he said anyways. So she thought it was weird that he would try to talk to her now.

“Hey, Bifur. How goes the watch this fine evening?” She whispered when she was close enough to plop down on her butt next to him. The action sent a twinge through her still bruised and sore body.

He made an agreeable humming noise, or at least she thought it sounded pleasant enough. They sat in silence together, the wind making the trees rustle, adding to the various sounds of night time in a forest.

“ _Zuznel amab_?”

“Zuhznel ahmub?” She tried parroting. Bifur shook his head, and turned where he sat to face her better.

“ _Zuznel amab_ ,” he said again, making hand gestures this time. She watched him repeat the gestures, which didn't make anymore sense than it did the first time around.

“Sorry, I don't... I don't understand what you mean.”

Bifur sighed, and picked her hand up by her wrist. Extremely confused now, but wondering where he was going with this she let him guide her limp fist up to her throat, then up to her mouth.

“ _Zuznel amab_ ,” he repeated, and patted her forehead with the side of her fingers. Then he took her other hand, and made to cover her eyes with them.

“Voice? Uh... Head. Dark. Thoughts? Black thoughts?” She tried guessing. He might not speak English, or Westron, whatever it really was here, but at least he could still understand her. He shook his head no to most of them, but she could tell she was getting closer. “Blackness, mind, thoughts. Oh, dreams? Black – bad. Bad dreams. Ohhh.”

Bifur nodded, letting go of her hands, and he made more gestures she couldn't understand, but he seemed pleased she figured out what he was asking. She ducked her head a bit, embarrassed that he knew.

“I was dreaming of the goblins,” she said quietly. He reached out to rest a hand gently on her shoulder.

With his other hand he leaned over to grip his spear, and thumped the end of it once against the ground. He let go of her shoulder to gesture back from the way they came, from the mountain, and shook his head, thumping his spear in the grass again. She thought she got the general idea.

“I know, Bifur. Thanks.” Ira gripped his shoulder in return, and Bifur nodded again, a warm expression on his face. He turned back towards the forest, and set his weapon down by his side. Well, that was kind of weird, but she couldn't help feeling like what just happened was a good thing. After a little while of companionable silence she yawned, and said goodnight. Maybe this time her dreams would be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I didn't completely mess up what little Khuzdul I used here. Basically I just Googled a dictionary, and hoped for the best, lol.


	4. How Do You Trick A Trickster?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of clogging the comments with my replies, I'm going to thank innocentanimefan and tigrislilium here. Thank you both, your comments are like shots of giddy to my brain. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. :D

Things were pretty much back to normal as far as the traveling was going. Well, aside from the constant knowledge that a pack of orcs were in the process of tracking them down, anyways. Oh, and the fact that they were missing over half the stuff they all started out with. Not to mention the nightmares...

Okay, so not totally back to normal, but if you didn't count any of that other really inconvenient stuff, yeah, almost normal.

Her period hadn't made an appearance, but she could only be grateful she didn't have to bother with it. Didn't female athletes skip months sometimes when they trained hard enough? Maybe that was why.

They had been following the stream, more or less, Oin using his authority as a healer for that decision. He said they needed a steady source of water to make sure everyone could keep their scratches clean. It was kind of a thin argument since anyone besides her sporting any cuts were nearly closed already. At the very least she got to bathe more often, so there was that.

She was in the middle of washing up now, another day of walking and jogging behind them until tomorrow morning. Usually bath time was uneventful, but today, while she scrubbed down, she suddenly noticed her body felt different now. Firmer in what were the flabbier places, gaining muscle in her legs especially. And her ass right now, _wow_. Distractedly she groped and squeezed at herself, a little amazed, and maybe even weirded out, at all the changes she found. It was a bit strange to realize one day her body wasn't exactly the way she remembered it being, even if it meant she was officially in the best shape of her life.

Ira took the time to map out the differences. There used to be a sort of squishy bit of fat around her knees, but it was gone now. Her calf muscles felt pleasantly thick when she flexed them, and her thighs felt... powerful, as silly as that sounded. She did a few squats standing in the water, and didn't creak or tremble at all. Moving on up from her legs to her stomach she rubbed at the smaller swell of her pouch. Back before she woke up in Middle Earth there had been spurts of motivation where she tried doing sit ups to get rid of it, but they never seemed to work. Ira snorted; turns out all she had to do was spend months running around the world.

Well, her diet lately probably made a difference, too. Ira hasn't sported a full blown food baby since Rivendell.

“And t'think we were growing worried about ye,” Nori's voice said loud and clear behind her.

Ira squeaked, spinning where she stood in the water, her eyes locking on Nori where he stood leaning up against a tree, arms crossed, and not a damn sign of shame on his face as he looked right at her.

“Nori!?” she yelled, covering all the important parts with her hands and arms. “What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!”

“Like I said, ye was taking your time, so some of us grew worried about ye. Dunnae worry yourself overmuch, lass, it ain't nothin' I ain't seen uhfore.” He lingered a moment, and Goddamn it she could never read his face, it was always so closed off, before he turned around to make his way back to camp. She watched him go with an incredulous look scrunching her face. Snapping out of being caught so off guard she snatched up a rock from the waterbed to throw at him before he disappeared from sight completely.

The rock sailed by him to the far side, and he paused to look over his shoulder at her, one of those ridiculously long eyebrows raised at her before he kept on walking. The fucking nerve!

She was nearly done anyways, but she rushed through the rest of her time in the water before anyone else got it in their head to sneak up on her. As soon as she got back to camp she was going to find a bigger rock to drop on his head. At the very least that would ruin his stupid hair-do (he was very fussy about it, actually). Ira dressed quickly, not bothering to wring the water out of her hair like she normally did. She scooped up her things, and hugged the bundle to her as she stomped noisily back to camp.

“Whoa, someone's in a bad mood,” Kili quipped from his spot against a fallen tree trunk. She ignored him as she dumped her armload of stuff on her pack, and started searching for that rock.

“She's just mad I caught her feelin' herself up in the river,” Nori commented nonchalantly.

“What?” Fili asked sharply, head snapping up to narrow his eyes at Nori. Kili reached out to grip his shoulder when he made like he was going to get up from where he sat.

“Must you, brother? Here, now?” Dori grumbled, shaking his head.

“I was _not_ –” well, okay, she had been, but, “- not like _that_!” she cried, her face heating up as she glared at Nori. Oh, sure, he wasn't even looking at her now, too busy with picking at his nails, the smug bastard.

“Pray tell, what other ways are there to feel oneself up?” Nori asked cooly. _Then_ he glanced up at her from under his lashes, and there was just the tiniest bit of a smirk on his face. Ira saw his eyes move down and back up as he stared. It was the sleaziest look anyone had ever given her, nevermind that Nori's face was usually so carefully blank, so she knew he meant for her to see it. The fact that it made her blush only made her that much angrier.

“ _You little_ –” she snarled, moving towards him with the intention of planting a fist on his jaw. Screw the damn rock. Ira heard the sounds of Kili muttering something in urgent tones somewhere to her side, but all her focus was on Nori.

“Enough,” Thorin called, sounding utterly annoyed. Ira stopped just a few feet away from her target to glare over at him, but he only pinched the bridge of his nose before he turned towards Nori. “Quit goading her, Nori. You were to make sure nothing had happened, not peep like lowly tom. It won't happen again.”

Nori shrugged a shoulder. “Of course,” he drawled. Ira bristled and clenched her fists.

“Miss Ira,” Thorin said lowly.

“Fine,” she growled. Before she turned to tromp her way back over to her stuff she gave Nori the 'I'm watching you' gesture, because this was so not over. She'll have to think of a good way to get back at him for this. The look on his face practically invited her to just try.

Thorin obviously wasn't going to just let her have it out with him like the others did when he was being obnoxious, so that was out of the question. _They_ got to wrestle around on the ground when there was an issue; she would just have to get creative. Nori was a sneaky bastard though, and for a moment she wondered if it was even possible to get back at him. Maybe she ought to ask someone for help.

“He's jus' havin' one on ye, lassie. Dunnae worry about it,” Dwalin gruffed amiably, standing by her as she worked on stuffing her things away in her pack with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

“Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve my revenge,” she griped. Dwalin grunted out a chuckle. It was still kind of weird for her that he was being this nice now, but she would take this Dwalin over the one from the beginning of the journey any day.

“It can wait. Now, then,” he said loudly, his tone actually sounding cheerful? Holy shit. He clapped a meaty hand on her shoulder, ignoring her lurch forward from the force of it, and steered her over to where he usually sat in camp. “'S time ye had a proper lesson in taking care of your sword. Ye cannae go about not keepin' it clean. Isn't that right, Thorin?”

Thorin, who was obsessed with his weapons to the point of worship, really, looked up from where he was sat next to Balin, his eyes going from her to Dwalin and back. “Aye, you have a point,” he answered after a moment.

So for the rest of that evening she was taught how and when to clean her sword. Since she had sheathed her sword after getting blood on it, that's where they started. That part was tedious and frustrating as hell. It wasn't like she could just shine a flashlight down inside to make sure she got it all. Thorin, after a bit of grumbling about how she needed to do a much better job, again, and this time get it all, eventually said she could move on to the actual blade. Once the scabbard was out of the way, and he explained the process, her paying close attention because she was genuinely interested, she thought she could see why he liked looking after his weapons so much.

For all that Orcrist was an elvish blade, Thorin didn't treat the sword like it was something he could just get at Wal-Mart. He went step-by-step, using Orcrist as an example while she copied him. It was in the the way he held Orcrist, like it was precious; his fingers slowly trailing a clothe over the metal to evenly spread the oil they were using; the calm and yet focused expression on his face as he moved the sword around however he needed to. Thorin almost made her feel like she was intruding on something private. It was a side of him she had never seen (or paid attention to) before, so she kept from doing or saying anything he normally glowered at her for.

“Good, good,” Thorin said approvingly as they finished, inspecting her sword closely. Then he handed it back to her to sheathe.

“Thank you, Thorin,” Ira said, smiling a little. He simply nodded at her.

Laying down in the grass that night waiting to fall asleep she thought it a little funny how, for once, Thorin was the one to make her feel better after getting mad about something. They might never really get to the point of being friends, but she thought she wouldn't mind so much if things kept going the way they were now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't explain my opinion very well in the story with it being told from Ira's point of view, which I'm sure by now we've seen is very limited. In my mind Nori is actually a huge bastard, and only cares for three things: Family, money, and sex. He's there with Thorin on this quest because as a scribe Ori can document the journey, and he loves Ori the best so cue brotherly protectiveness (not to mention he gets a delicious cut of the profits). Then, since dwarrowdams are so far and few inbetween, Nori grew to tolerate relations with women, especially since if he does things just right he can get what he wants from them. Basically Nori has very loose morals, and he does what he wants. There are other dynamics I've tried to impart, which I hope to be able to write out later in more detail. It's an idea I rather like when it comes to dwarves and certain parts of their culture.


	5. A Pretty Good Day

All the next day while they traveled she spent her energy not reserved for running on trying to figure out what Nori's deal was. For all his posturing last night he was acting like nothing had even happened. Nori hadn't even spared her a glance as far as she was aware, and every look she threw his way went completely unnoticed or ignored. If they had been in a bar, and he'd acted like that, she'd see his pass at her for exactly what it was, but he was a dwarf. Maybe they flirted differently or something. It was a pretty weak theory, but she was holding onto anything at this point, no matter how flimsy it was. Ira grudgingly admitted she was at least a little tempted. So sue her; she was a red blooded woman with needs, damn it, and she was still pretty curious. When she could silently admit that much to herself it only made her angrier, because she still wanted to get back at him for his stupid stunt. At least things were quiet now, giving her time to sort everything out.

Just as long as he didn't try to pull that shit again. If he _did_ , though, she wasn't going to let Thorin stop her this time.

Anyways.

They were progressively taking less and less breaks. It was to be expected, she supposed. Thorin was the only other one besides her that got the most banged up, and he was already acting like a warg hadn't chomped into him like a squeak toy. Whether or not he was just hiding it, the dwarves did recover fast, so inevitably they were picking up the pace.

At least she didn't feel nearly as bad as she did when she first woke up after the cliff. The bruises were healing slowly for her, just taking their sweet time to fade, but at least she wasn't biting back a groan from sitting down or getting up anymore. There was no sign of any kind of infection in her cuts, which were scabbing up nice and ugly like. They itched like a motherfucker, too, and whenever they were idle, mostly during lunch or at night before going to sleep, she had the urge to pick at them. If she was close enough for him to reach Oin would swat at her hands, furrowing his brows at her disapprovingly. They were stopped for lunch now, and he had just rapt his ear trumpet against her hand. Ira hadn't even been fully aware she was reaching up to scratch at the ones on her cheek.

“But they itch, Oin,” she whined.

“Hmph,” he grunted. “Dunnae open them, lass. They're already going t'scar,” he said, his voice growing softer at the last bit.

“Oh no,” she breathed dramatically and making a worried face, “who will ever marry me now?”

She had said it to be funny, even though there was a tiny part of her that seriously wondered _what if nobody would?_ She hasn't seen her own face in months, except maybe in the reflection of a stream, but that wasn't much. Nobody had laughed at her joke, though, and she chuckled nervously at their silence. There was a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that prompted her to look up, and when she did she saw Fili was staring right at her. His face was utterly calm, but his eyes looked... fierce, almost, if she was going to try to describe it. Her nervous smile slowly fell away.

“I've no doubt they'll be lining up by the dozens for your hand,” Fili said, still looking at her pointedly. It made her blush for some reason, and then finally he looked away. When she did too she saw Thorin staring at him, and he had a pensive frown on his face. It was like he was trying to puzzle out the meaning of something he knew he wouldn't like.

_Dwarves_. Nori was confusing her enough already, she was not about to start analyzing Fili and his nonsense. One weird thing at a time, please. For once she was thankful when lunch ended and they went back to walking.

The afternoon was warm and muggy, the air thick like it was going to rain. Looking up through the trees at the sky she saw it wasn't gray yet, so maybe not for a while. Ira was sweating more than she was used to, and her clothes felt uncomfortable, like they were suddenly a little too small. There wasn't anything to be done about it though, so she just tried not to think about it. Some of the company were chatting to their hiking buddy of the moment. Bilbo was walking next to Gloin, grinning while Gloin told him more stories of a little Gimli. Gandalf was a little ways away from the rest of them, and she realized he had been sort of detached from everyone since the eagles dropped them off.

Come to think of it he'd hardly said a word to anyone, either. Bilbo mostly, or Ori, but otherwise it was almost like he wasn't even there. Ira made her way over to him, and waited a few minutes to see if he'd try and make small talk. Aside from a polite head nod in her direction, he kept his eyes forward.

“Kind of stuffy out here,” she hedged, feeling a little awkward, “maybe it'll rain later?”

“Yes, I do believe that's likely,” Gandalf says amiably enough. They walked on in silence for a bit more, Ira trying to think of something else to say. Not really coming up with anything, she just turned towards him a bit more.

“Are you okay?” she blurted. His eyebrows rose up, disappearing under his pointy hat, and he stared at her in surprise for a moment.

“Of course, my dear. What makes you think not all is well?”

“I just noticed you've been really quiet lately." Ira lowered her voice so the others wouldn't hear. "Are you worried about the orcs?”

“I've no doubt they are still in pursuit, but as it is they are not bearing down on us this moment, so there is no need to be overly worried.” He paused for a moment, then smiled kindly down at her. “Thank you for your concern, my dear Ira, but all is well.”

It was quiet the rest of the afternoon, at least between her and Gandalf. She stuck by him the whole time, still feeling a little bad about how he stayed just that little bit further from the company. He didn't seem annoyed or anything with her there, so it must have been alright.

An hour or so before the sun was going to sink all the way down Thorin called camp. While everyone broke up into their usual routine of getting everything made out, fat raindrops finally started falling. Thunder rumbled quietly in the distance. Ira was glad they had the trees to help keep the rain off, at least.

They were talking about going out to try and catch something for dinner. When it came to hunting, normally Fili and Kili were the two main dwarves that took care of that. Kili for his bow, obviously, but since he didn't have it anymore they mostly relied on snares. Ira had never asked to go with the hunting party, and until that day she was never volunteered to go along either. For whatever reason Kili wanted her to this time.

“It'll be good to learn to be light and quiet on your feet!” he said, a cheery grin on his scruffy face. 

Thorin put his big foot down on that idea, though. Apparently it wasn't worth the risk to lose the chance at catching something due to her inexperience. Ira could see his point, even though it rankled. So while she ended up having to be left behind she sat by Bofur and Gloin to make snares, which was something she was pretty good at if she did say so herself. Not that it was hard, but she'll take pride in it anyways.

When the hunting party had come back they had a few large turtles tucked under their arms instead of the usual animals they brought back. Ira had never entertained the the idea of eating a turtle; they were the kind of animal you keep as a pet, not make into a soup, but the only way beggars can be choosers was if she decided to go hungry. 

She was still sat next to Bofur while the soup cooked, watching with interest as he whittled a chunk of wood. It was still raining, but it wasn't pouring down, and the thunder didn't come too close for it to be really loud. The sound of the storm, the fire, the dull murmur of the dwarves talking quietly once in a while... It felt peaceful, she thought. It was sort of a new feeling to her. She's known quiet, or calm. Boring, most of the time, but nothing verging on actually being peaceful. It was a nice feeling.

Ira leaned forward a bit to get a better look at the way Bofur was digging the tip of his knife into the wood, and it made him look up. He smiled at her before blowing away the little shavings clinging to his carving, and putting it in his pocket. Digging around a bit he pulled out a new piece of wood (he just keeps this stuff in his pockets? Dwarves, man), and held it up for her to see.

“Try your hand at it, lass?” Bofur asked cordially. She blinked at him, not expecting that.

“Can I?” she asked brightly.

“'Course!” he nodded, handing the small piece of wood over to her along his little knife he was using.

“It's easy, really. Jus' be sure to peel away from ye to start off. No, no; dunnae press so hard. Gently. Ye only take tiny bits off at a time. Yes, good, like that.”

It was just a simple thing. Bofur had already stripped the wood of any bark, and the knife was sharp so the blade melted down the sides of it to make curly little ribbons in her lap. Bofur patiently explained a couple ways to hold the knife, and she could feel herself smiling most of the time, weirdly enough. Ira couldn't really say why she instantly liked it so much when it wasn't that big of a deal. Something in her just settled into place, and it felt _right_.

“What should I make, Bofur?” she asked, grinning at him. He grinned back.

“Anything ye want!”

She chose to make a pencil. Kinda lame, sure, but it seemed like a good place to start with as anything.

When the soup was ready she was reluctant to stop long enough to eat. Most of the company found it endearing, chuckling or shaking their heads at her. The turtle soup ended up being okay. Not great, but it was something to eat at least. Several of them had to share what few bowls they had left, but when she was done she hastily rubbed the spot on the bowl she had where she'd been sipping with her sleeve so she could get back to carving. Nobody else ever really bothered with that sort of thing; apparently cooties weren't an issue, but nobody ever told her stop, either, so whatever.

Bofur lent her the tiny knife for the rest of the night, even when her fingers cramped a bit, but she didn't care. Ira was utterly fixated. The only reason she stopped at all was because Thorin called for the fire to be put out, and everyone to get some sleep.


	6. Leave It To The Dwarves To Make Her Question Modern Entertainment

“ _Ow_!” Ira cried.

“Ira,” Dwalin growled.

“Dwalin,” she retorted, unimpressed.

“For Mahal's sake, pay attention, lassie.”

“You're not even telling me what I'm supposed to be doing!”

“I jus' did,” said Dwalin, and the look on his face was rapidly darkening into possibly legit anger territory. Ira smartly kept her mouth shut. After a moment Dwalin nodded once, and came at her again.

“Shit,” she hissed, her hands stinging painfully from blocking a swing from one of his axes. Dwalin was gaining ground on her quickly, her attention too focused on that axe as he rained it down on her again and again. When he had her backed up against a tree he dropped his stance, and managed to make a sigh sound like a growling dog.

“Ye cannae let yourself be advanced upon so easily,” he lectured.

Ira couldn't help but gape at him incredulously. How in the actual hell could he be saying shit like that when it's obvious his skill level was so far above hers she couldn't even see it? She turned her disbelieving look over to where Kili and Bilbo were watching.

“Do you hear this guy? Is he serious?” she said a little shrilly, jerking a thumb at Dwalin for emphasis.

“Quit your whinin', an' get over here,” Dwalin barked. He was already back at the starting point where they had begun practicing.

“I do not envy her right now, not one bit,” she heard Bilbo mutter to Kili, who chuckled in response while she stomped back over to Dwalin. Ira flipped Bilbo off before taking her stance. Defensive, of course. Like she would dare to try to be on the offense against Dwalin.

Goddamn Nori, she thought to herself as she clumsily moved her sword about to parry and block. This was all his fault. If he hadn't opened his big, fat mouth she would still be practicing with Kili right now. Why not learn a bit of _real_ swordplay, he said. Dwalin is, after all, a battlemaster, and young Kili is a bowman at heart. He just _had_ to go and make fucking sense. Make it sound like _such_ a good idea. And Dwalin actually agreed! There was a conspiracy here, she just knew it.

“Pay – attention,” Dwalin said lowly. Whenever she couldn't manage to defend herself against a swing, Dwalin would twist his axe at the last second so she was smacked with the flat end wherever he had been aiming. When he landed a particularly hard blow to her leg, she cried out, and her knees buckled under her.

“Ooh,” Kili winced sympathetically. “You alright, Ira?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” she grumbled from where she sat, rubbing her leg with one hand while the other held her sword limply in the grass. She was only being pummeled to death by Dwalin. No big deal.

“Are ye done for the night, lassie?” Dwalin asked in a tone that wasn't exactly sweet, but it was still far too close to a coo for her tastes. 

Glaring up at him where he stood, the head of his axe resting on the ground and his hands folded nonchalantly on the end of the handle, she climbed back up to her feet to take her stance again. “Bring it on, old dwarf,” she bit out.

“That's the spirit.” Dwalin nodded, and came at her again.

Later, after having been beaten back down into the dirt of course, she was sprawled eagle in the grass, noting dully the throbbing pain littered over her arms and legs where she hadn't been able to block Dwalin's axe. She heard someone walking over to her, and turned her head to see who it was.

“Hey, Ori,” she sighed, wiggling her fingers from the grass at him by way of a greeting.

“Hullo, Ira. How are ye feeling?” Ori sat down next to her, and settled a thin leather bound book in his lap. Flipping it open he started sketching something out with charcoal.

“Like I just got beat up by a big brute of a dwarf.”

“Would ye believe me if I told ye he was goin' easy on ye?”

Looking up at him with wide eyes, Ori kept his own gaze on his paper as he worked. “No way,” she groaned.

“Aye, 's true.”

“I am not masochistic enough for this.”

She saw Ori smile, and it made her smile, too. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Ira closing her eyes and listening to the sounds of camp and Ori drawing. Balin started up a story, so his voice was added to the soft sounds of charcoal on paper, though she wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to the actual words. She must have slipped off to sleep at some point because when she opened her eyes again it was dark out, the fire having been doused, and she could hear snoring.

It was hot as balls, she realized, and no wonder; someone had draped her cloak over her while she slept, which was a sweet thought, but it was way too warm out in this forest for a blanket. Restlessly she dragged it off her, and bundled it to serve her better as a pillow. The occasional breeze that kicked up was truly a blessing, but they never lasted long enough, and she was still too warm to fall back asleep. Ira scooted over a little bit, taking her cloak with her to a cool patch of grass. That helped a little.

Lying awake at night was one of the her least favorite things. There just wasn't anything she could do when she couldn't get to sleep, so she had plenty of time to her thoughts. Most of the time that wasn't really much of a problem, since her life lately revolved around being bone tired and amazed that she'd actually survived another day in Middle Earth. She might try to compare the differences in what actually happened to her with what she'd seen in the movie, or think about what she still had to go through. At this point in the journey she would always ask herself what else could possibly go differently, and she would play the guessing game until she finally fell back asleep.

Sometimes though, on the very rare occasion, she would think of home.

Thinking about it now, Ira wondered if all the time she was spending here was also passing back there. Her dad liked to call her once a week to talk, and after so many missed calls he probably would have filed a missing persons report by now. It was also safe to assume she wouldn't have her job, either. Ira hesitated to call the people she worked with her friends, because they only ever spent time at work or as drinking buddies, but she couldn't help wondering if any of them missed her. She didn't know how long they had to wait until whoever went missing was declared dead. However long it was, it had to be more than just the months she had been gone already, right? And there was no telling how much longer exactly she would still be here, either...

Rolling over onto her side, she buried her face in her cloak, just willing herself to get back to sleep already. It didn't make any difference to think about all that crap, she thought. There just wasn't any way to know anything; for all she knew she could wake up the same night she left. If she was lucky, which she has been so far. She could have a broken leg, or her arm cut off. She could actually _be_ dead, and not just missing.

Ugh, she thought to herself, forget it. She'll deal with it when she came to it.

When she blinked her eyes open again everything was blurrier than usual. Sitting up, she noticed how damp she felt, and saw a thick fog was why everything looked so smudged. There had been fog before, but never this dense. Ira could hear the others moving around and talking better than she can see them.

“It looks like Silent Hill out here. All it needs now is Pyramid Head wandering around,” she yawned when she shuffled through the wet grass over to the fire they had burning. Kili, Fili, Bifur, and Bilbo were close enough to it for her to make them out.

“What is Silent Hill, and Pyramid Head?” Bilbo asked. They had rabbits skinned and dressed hanging over the fire on a makeshift spit of sticks. It made her smile proudly to know that some of those rabbits had to have been caught by her snares.

Ira dropped her cloak on the ground next to Kili before sitting on it. “It's the name of a town back home that's always covered in a fog just like this. Pyramid Head's one of the monsters that haunt it.”

“He's a monster, then? That's a rather silly name for a monster. Why's he called Pyramid Head?” Kili asked.

“He wears a giant metal face mask in the shape of a triangle. I always wondered how it stayed on, because it never looks like it should.” They were looking over at her, clearly confused. “Well, uh. Here, try and imagine...”

Ira went into miming what it looked like, drawing the shape of it around her own head to help give them a better idea.

Kili shook his head a bit. “You're right, I don't see how that would stay on at all. That's not scary, though. What makes him a monster?”

“He carries a big ass sword – as big as he is, and he's huge – and he wears a long skirt made of peoples' skin. I've seen him rip the skin off a girl in one big pull –”

“- You've _seen_ that?” Fili blurts, staring at her.

“Well... it wasn't real. It was a movie.”

They all knew what a movie was by now of course, but it was still just a sort of vague concept to them. Everyone, except Bifur for some reason, looked confused and mildly disturbed.

“Why would you _want_ to witness something like that?” Fili asked.

“I don't,” Ira said, furrowing her brow.

“But you watched it,” Kili said.

“Well, yeah, I did, but... I...” she trailed off, not sure how to explain. She couldn't say 'I wanted to watch a movie with things I didn't want to see in it', that sounded stupid.

“The more I hear about what it's like where you come from, the less I understand it all,” Bilbo admitted. The others, except Bifur who might as well not have even heard anything for all the attention he was giving them, hummed in agreement.

“Is it really that weird sounding?” she asked. Fili and Kili looked at each other before they looked back at her and nodded.

“Are there many, ah, movies you've seen with... things like that?” Bilbo asked, turning the rabbits over on the spit so they cooked evenly. That or it was a good distraction. Ira didn't want to answer now. She liked horror movies, so she's seen some pretty ugly shit, but now she was afraid to admit it. Nobody usually questioned it like that; they're just movies, none of it's real.

“Yeah,” she sighed eventually. “But that's not the _only_ type of stuff I watch.”

Before she could explain more Nori came into being out of the fog to stand by them. “Strange how ye claim to have witnessed such awful things, but you're still so sensitive,” he said.

“Go get bent, Nori,” she replied conversationally. She just couldn't muster the energy to actually be angry right now. Not like his comment was much of a dig anyways.

Nori raised his eyebrows, and sat right down by her. “I think I fancy eatin' first. Them rabbits look about done t'me.”

As it turned out the rabbits were ready, so Fili rallied the rest of the company and they had breakfast. There was some debate afterwards on whether or not to try and journey with the fog still as heavy as it was, and in the end it was decided they'd better wait until it lifted enough for them to at least see where they were going. Ira asked Bofur if she could borrow his little knife again, and he was only too happy to lend it out. She spent the entire time quietly whittling away while they waited for the sun to thin out the fog. It took longer than she thought it would, so she made plenty of headway on her carving. By the time they finally set off for the day, she'd made a slightly lumpy mushroom.

Ori laughed and happily accepted it when she gave it to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, I hope this was a little thought provoking. Imagine how it all must look to the company whenever Ira tries to explain these types of things. Also, Google tells me unless someone can provide evidence that a missing person is still alive they are declared dead after seven years.


	7. Reality Comes A-Knockin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, so it took me too long to update. I'm not a busy person, and yet lately whenever I try to write something needs my attention. Anyways. Thank you everyone who has given kudos, commented, and bookmarked! Much, much love. :D

“Oh, my God,” Ira whispered to herself, her nose scrunched up, and her gaze locked on Kili across camp. He was on his second fingernail at that point, and she couldn't look away while he chewed at them, spitting out the pieces he bit off to the side.

“Hm? What's that now?” Bofur asked absentmindedly beside her, keeping his eyes down on his carving. Her own carving sat unfinished in her hands, forgotten.

“Nope. Nuh uh. I can't take this anymore,” she declared, setting the wood and knife down, and rose to her feet. Stalking over to Dori she thrust out her hand, making a grabby gesture. “Dori, lend me your nail-filer, please.”

Dori looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. He stared for a few moments, looking like he was debating whether or not to be so kind, and he must have been in a good mood tonight because he finally breathed out noisily through his nose, which was Dori's way of saying, 'fine, but you better recognize how amazingly generous I'm being'. He fished the filer out from a pocket somewhere in his coat, and held it out to her only to pull it away when she reached for it.

“I'll be wantin' this back, aye?” he said, staring at her pointedly.

“I'm not Nori,” Ira griped, rolling her eyes. Dori hmphed and handed over his nail-filer, but she saw the slight smirk on his face before she turned and walked over to Kili. Dropping down in front of him she held out her hand to him, making grabby gestures again. “Gimme.”

Kili blinked at her, and furrowed his brows. “Give you what?” he asked with his nail still between his teeth. 

“Your hand.” Ira didn't wait this time, just reached up to yank his hand away from his mouth.

“Oi, what's this for? Why do you – _really_?” he whined when she scooted closer, and started fixing his bitten nails for him. “Fi, Ira's gone mad. Look what she's doing!”

Glancing over at him Fili just shook his head and stood up. Gripping Kili's shoulder he flashed a smirk. “I'm sure you'll live through the ordeal, brother. I have every confidence in you.” Then he walked away out of her line of sight.

This was such typical Fili behavior anymore she had stopped asking herself why since the eagles dropped them off. Whenever she hung around Kili for what were obviously going to be long periods of time he would just get up and go away, like he couldn't even stand to be around her for more than five minutes. It really bothered her at first, because she thought that they were okay again after that awkward moment that one night – he had _said_ they were okay, but he sure as hell didn't act like it.

Whatever, she thought to herself, focusing on Kili's nails. Ira was getting uncomfortable having to sit cross legged in front of him while he was sitting cross legged, too. His arm was almost completely outstretched so his hand was close enough for her to squint down at. Huffing, she stopped for a moment to gesture at his legs with the file. “Open your legs,” she said.

“What?” Kili blurted, staring at her with wide, surprised eyes. His cheeks were even turning a little pink. Okay, so she could see how he might take that wrong.

“Not like that!” she laughed at him, and shoved at his shoulder. “God, Kili, ew. You're like my little brother, if I had one anyways. It's just awkward sitting like this, and you're too wide for me to have my legs on either side of you, so it's up to you to do it.”

“Oh. Right,” he muttered, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment.

They spent a few moments getting better situated so he wouldn't have to be reaching out so far now, her sitting closer with his legs bracketing her. Dori's nail filer was a sort of thick piece of metal about as long as her hand, with a really tiny criss-crossed pattern cut into the sides. Kili's nails turned out to be thicker than she assumed possible. Maybe a thinner filer wouldn't have been good enough for dwarven nails.

“Did you mean that?” Kili asked in an excited tone after Ira had finished fixing the nails he'd already chewed on, and moved to work on one he hadn't gotten to yet.

“Mean what?” 

“About my being like your little brother.”

“Oh. Well, sure. I mean, I'm an only child, but I imagine if I did have a kid brother –”

“– A baby goat for a brother? Should I be insulted? I think I should be insulted right now.” Kili made a face. He started to pull his hand away, but she held onto it determinedly. 

“Baby goat? Where did you even get that fr – oh! No, kid is just slang for child. Anyways, if I did have a kid brother, I imagine it'd be a lot like hanging out with you.” Ira paused then, the file held still as she let what she just said really sink into her brain. “Oh, my God,” she murmured, and then hung her head back to look skyward. “That was so cliché. Ugh. Too late now; it's out there.” She shrugged a shoulder, and went back to filing.

“You would file your brother's nails then?” His voice sounded more than a little skeptical.

“If he ate them all up like you do, yeah. Do you know what I'm going to be dreaming about tonight? Not goblins, or orcs, or wargs; I'm going to dream about you biting your nails.” Ira shivered for dramatic affect, but it hadn't made Kili laugh, so she looked up to see that he was staring at her with a softened, worried expression on his face.

“You have nightmares about them?” he asked quietly.

Oh. Well, shit. Ira assumed he knew. It wasn't like she didn't thrash in her sleep sometimes, or wake herself up because she had made a noise. Some of the others knew because of that, like Bifur. Then again Kili slept like the dead, so maybe she shouldn't be all that surprised he hadn't noticed.

“No one told me you were having nightmares.” He tossed an accusing glance over her shoulder before looking back to her.

“It's fine, Kili. Really. Like I said, your nail biting is what's going to haunt me tonight.” Ira grinned at him when he grumbled darkly at her, and she went back to focusing on his nails. “Did you know,” she said conversationally, “that people have ended up eating parasites by biting their nails?”

“That sounds ridiculous, if you ask me.” Kili made a grossed out sound. “Why would you even tell me that?”

“'I've got huge parasites!'” she muttered, lowering her voice in a bad imitation of his.

“You weren't even there when I said that! And your accent is horrible, I don't sound like that,” he huffed, squirming where he sat. She glanced up long enough to smirk at him, and thumped the file on his knee to signal for him to sit still so she could finish up.

When she was done, he glared down at his nails, looking from one hand to the other. Ira gave Dori's filer back, thanking him, and sat back in her spot by her pack to pick her carving up again. The little knife she kept borrowing from Bofur was inevitably surrendered as a casualty of war since she asked to use it so often. She was working on making a face that was supposed to be Thorin, but was probably closer to a Klingon with acid burns.

“Why does it seem like you've done that before?” Kili accused, coming to sit by her. Looking up she saw Fili was still busy quietly helping Bilbo out with his swordsmanship.

“'Cause I have,” she said, staring back down at her carving. “I have a cousin that does that. Drives me crazy. Every Christmas I was subjected to the torture of her nail biting. Finally I just said to hell with it and attacked her hands. She won't bite them if I paint them for her, but they need to be filed first.” Ira blew away the little wood shavings off her carving so she could see it better.

“What's Christmas?” Ori asked from over where he sat.

“It's a winter holiday. Families get together, make a lot of food, and give presents. That sorta stuff. Hey, Thorin,” she called, and when he looked over at her from where he was sat next to Oin, she held up her carving. “Recognize anyone?”

Thorin squinted his eyes at little at her masterpiece before looking back at her with a bland expression on his face. “No,” he said.

“Aw, c'mon. It's you. See?” Kili was laughing beside her, with Bofur hiding his own snickering in his shoulder. Several others snorted or chuckled while she pointed out how obvious that it was supposed to be Thorin. “He's even got your infamous scowl.”

“Why, the lass is right,” Gloin said, grinning. “The two of ye could be twins.”

Thorin was wearing his scowl now, but otherwise he just looked put upon. Shaking his head, he went back to talking to Oin, who sent her a wink before giving Thorin his full attention again.

The distant howl of a warg popped Ira's bubble like a mean spirited kid during recess. The entire camp froze for a second, then heads snapped up from whatever they had been doing to look at each other or around them at the trees.

“Azog,” Thorin breathed.

There was a flurry of movement as everyone jumped to their feet or rushed over to their packs, and started gathering everything up. Thorin busied himself snapping orders; pack up, do not leave anything behind. Ira was slow to respond, but she did everything she was told. It hadn't even been five minutes of everyone trying to make it seem like they had never stopped in the area before dousing the fire, covering it, too, and heading off into the forest at night.

Thorin urged the company to start out at a fast pace. To her ever lasting delight, Ira could run longer and not get winded as soon as she used to. That wasn't to say it didn't happen eventually, but still, three cheers for progress. They made their way as quietly as possible, the only sounds being their thumping feet, breathing, and the occasional call of a warg. As an hour on foot turned into two, then three and four, Ira could definitely tell the orcs were getting closer.

This was the night Bilbo sneaked off to check things out, she realized belatedly. It actually kind of surprised her how offguard it caught her, what with knowing the whole time they would eventually catch up. Everything the last several days had been so different (so _nice_ ), and now she had the blanket she was cozied under ripped away.

Another hour into the night, and the sounds of the wargs were being heard much more frequently.

“They're catching us up,” Dwalin growled lowly. In case someone hadn't noticed, she thought sarcastically. “We need t'see how far behind they are. I dunnae fancy bein' leapt at unawares.”

Raising his hand over his head Thorin spun a pointed finger around several times to signal for everyone to stop and group up. Ira lingered near the outside of the huddle, trying to keep her gulps for air as quiet as possible.

“We'll send out a scout,” Thorin whispered. “Find a place that provides cover, and wait there until the scout comes back with news. They're to have half an hour to assess the situation and report back before we move on. We cannot afford to stay in one spot too long.”

“Agreed,” Balin said, nodding. “Who is t'be our scout, then?”

Some of the dwarves looked to Kili, since that was sort of his area. Nori looked like he might volunteer, but Thorin's eyes were on Bilbo.

“This is a good opportunity for our burglar to put his skills to the test,” he said.

“Me?” Bilbo said, his tone mildly surprised. He pointed at himself, and looked around just to make sure they hadn't meant some other burglar somehow.

“Are you saying you're incapable?” Thorin lowered his voice.

Oh, what the fuck, Ira thought angrily. “After everything he's done for you so far, and you're ganna say shit like that _now_?” she said, glaring at Thorin. He spared her an annoyed glance before looking back to Bilbo expectantly.

“If he cannot sneak by a pack of filthy orcs, how can we expect him to make it passed Smaug?” he asked.

Ira opened her mouth to argue some more, but Bilbo beat her to it. “Right, no – you're right. I'll – I'll do it.” Nodding to himself he sniffed once, and rocked on his feet a bit. He looked really nervous to her, but determined. She still wanted to argue, but she kept her mouth shut this time. Either way he was going out there tonight.

“Good. Let's find cover, and get started.”

They huffed it through the trees until they came to an easily recognized area lit by the moonlight. Ira waited with the rest of the company in the shelter of the tall rocky walls and trees, everyone keeping an eye out for any sign of danger. Everyone else had a weapon out just in case it came down to it to use them, though she kept her own sword sheathed. Gandalf seemed to be the only one to really noticed that little detail.

When Bilbo came back into view she sent the most heartfelt 'I told you so' face to Thorin, hoping he could feel the burn of her look in the back of his head while the others laughed at themselves for ever having doubted him in the first place. After _everything he'd done_ – 

Nevermind, there were more important things going on right now, she thought.

“You knew about this beast?” Bofur asked, meaning Beorn, and Gandalf spared Ira a glance at that, like he might be saying, 'well I wasn't the only one'. She rolled her eyes. Then he turned and strode away from the group. Ira got the feeling she was meant to follow, so she did.

“Is it safe?” Gandalf whispered. It was the first time he'd asked her to tell him about the future, and wasn't that an interesting change of character. Ira pursed her lips, debating on whether or not to answer.

She couldn't see how it would hurt anything. Gandalf would chance it anyways, with or without her word on it. So she nodded, not looking at him, and he turned around to step back up to the company.

For all that she had just told him it was going to be okay, he gave the dwarves the same speech as in the movie, and she glared at the back of his head. What was _with_ people tonight? Was it just her? Beorn's roar rang out across the valley then, and it made up their minds for them on the matter.

They traveled for as much of the night as they could, but being what felt like half-starved, and pushing their limits already, they simply had to stop at some point to rest. Several of them collapsed as soon as they were allowed to, herself included. Beorn's house was still quite a long ways to go if the scene where they were all running across the pretty field was any indication. They wouldn't make it there until sundown the next day.

Thorin woke those that managed to catch some rest before dawn, and off again they went.

The sun was quick to follow them, and all through the morning they ran or walked when they absolutely had to catch their breath. They didn't stop, not even for piss breaks, and they drank from their waterskins while on the go. Ira hoped Beorn wouldn't hold it against them if they took the liberty of using his bathroom when they got there, because she knew it was probably going to be one of the first things they needed.

The trees were growing less dense, and the company finally reached the opening to the field. The air was sweeter out here. She took in large lung-fulls, mostly because she was out of breath already, but also because somehow it tasted amazing. Very refreshing, she thought tiredly. There was a shallow stream cutting the field in half, and by the time they reached it Ira noticed she was feeling more energized somehow.

Whatever the cause was she wasn't the only one to feel it. They all seemed to have gotten a bit of a kick in the ass, because they picked up the pace almost at the same time.

The edge of the trees on the other side of the field was drawing closer, and when she looked back at the flowers, a little sad to be leaving them behind, she spotted Beorn in his bear form lumbering towards them. He was still a long ways away, but she knew he would catch up.

Everyone ran into the trees. The ground was pretty uneven here so she had to focus on where she put her feet. They'd made it a good ways in before Beorn roared again, startling them all with how close it sounded. Everyone paused, breathing heavily, wide-eyed faces turning around to try and find the source of the roar.

“This way, quickly!” Gandalf urged, and he didn't have to tell them twice.

The house came into view through the trees at last. It was across an open space, and the setting sun made the tall, yellow grass look like someone was trying to blind her with a giant mirror. Ira squinted her eyes to help with the glare. Beorn roared again.

“Come on, get inside,” Gandalf called, waiting at the entrance of Beorn's house while everyone ran passed. Bombur was the first to reach the door; he ran right into it, and bounced right off.

Then one by one the rest of the company rammed into the doors. Repeatedly they threw themselves against it, and it rattled, but didn't open.

“The latch!” Ira yelled, still running. “Lift up the latch!”

Everyone was in a panic though and weren't really listening. Except maybe Thorin, since he was the one to originally open the door anyways, but whatever. She made it before him, and reaching over the others in front of her she shoved the metal latch up, making the doors swing open.

Everyone stumbled inside, but they weren't safe yet.

“Close the door!” she wheezed.

Dwarves clambered against the doors, pushing to shut them. They were nearly closed when Beorn's head smashed against them. In the movie it always bothered her that the doors didn't even budge when that happened, but they sure as hell did now. Several of them staggered back at the impact, and Ira shoved her shoulder back into the closest door, digging her feet into the ground to try and stop Beorn from getting the rest of the way in.

The others quickly joined in. Together they managed to push Beorn back, and get the doors shut and locked.

Sighs of relief everywhere. Ira was panting, still trying to catch her breath, and her heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of her chest. Her lungs felt a little tight from all the constant running, like someone was squeezing them, but she knew by now that would go away eventually.

“What _is_ that?” Ori asked, turning towards Gandalf.

“ _That_ is our host,” Gandalf said. There was shocked silence as the dwarves and Bilbo looked at him incredulously. “His name is Beorn, and he is a Skin Changer.”

Ira left Gandalf to bask in his theatrics. Right now she just wanted to sit her ass down. There was a cozy looking stone step that lead up into the kitchen area, and she parked herself there for the moment. Beorn could be heard huffing and grumbling around outside, and soon enough he started to wander away.

“He's leavin',” Ori murmured, his ear to the door.

“Come away from there,” Dori whispered, pulling Ori towards him. “'S not natural, none of it!”

Ira grinned to herself at that. Oh, Samwise Gamgee, if he could have heard... It was interesting to think that Sam was the first to say those words, inspiring the writers to have Dori say it, but here Dori was the first. Was that technically a paradox here? The universe didn't implode just then, so maybe not.

A thick support beam grabbed her attention, so she got up to get a closer look at the intricate designs carved from the wood. Gandalf suggested everyone to get some rest. That sounded like an awesome idea, but even though she was tired she was too hopped up on adrenaline, or endorphins from running, or something to try sleeping right now. Reaching out to run her fingers lightly over the woodwork in the pillar she thought of a better plan.

She knew that Beorn would help them in the end, but for some reason she figured it couldn't hurt to try this out. Ira looked around for something she could use. He must have a stockpile of wood for fires, right? She'd just sneak a tiny piece for her whittling needs.

“Lookin' for somethin'?” Bofur asked airily, and his smile told her he knew exactly what it was she was wanted. He pulled out a small log from behind him, and handed it to her.

“Thanks, Bofur. You're the best,” she said, and gave him a hug before sitting herself down against the step again while he went away to join some of the others setting up bed rolls in the hay.

“Miss Ira, it would be wise to get some sleep, wouldn't you say?” Gandalf asked nearby.

“Mm,” she mumbled, already busy at work with her knife. “I will, don't worry. When I lose the light I'll stop, you know that.”

Thankfully not everyone had gone to sleep just then, which meant they lit some lamps around the place after the sun had fully set, and she had plenty of light to make a lot of headway on her carving. She took her time with it though. Carefully, slowly, she whittled away the extra parts until a vague shape began to form. When she was happy enough with that, she started on the finer details. Ira carved out fur, and ears. She gave it an open mouth with sharp teeth, and four paws. And of course claws. She even remembered the stubby tail, and by the time she noticed everyone but her had finally gone off to bed, she was done.

They left the lamps burning for her. That was sweet of them, she thought. Now she could barely keep her eyes open, so she carefully stowed her little wooden bear figure away in her pack, and put out the lights. Ira was asleep moments after settling down in the hay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Of course Dori would have a nail-file. ...Of course _Dori_ would have a nail-file. He's a fussy dwarf, no? Heh. Also I hope nobody thinks Thorin questioning Bilbo further after he stood up to Azog of all orcs is backwards. I have my reasons. Suffice to say that dwarves are A) beyond stubborn (sound familiar?), and B) a little scene like that makes so much sense to me considering that weird pro-longed moment of everyone reaffirming Bilbo's burglary skills in the beginning of the movie.


	8. Bed, Bath, and Beorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't have an excuse.

It was one of those super rare times when Ira woke up slowly. She sighed contentedly, rolling over in the hay, and groaned after a good, long stretch. _This_ was the way to wake up; not from someone dropping something on her, or kicking at her feet, or a sudden noise. She was even tempted to see if she could risk going back to sleep, but she could hear the others talking in low voices mixed with the sounds of eating, and food sounded like a great idea right now.

Shuffling her way over towards the table where a few of the company were sat, she flinched and then gaped at the size of the bee that flew into her. Motherfucker was _huge_! Easily the size of her palm. The movie didn't do them justice at all. They better not be in a stinging mood, she thought, taking care to avoid any others between her and the table.

“Sleep well there, lass?” Bofur asked as she took a seat next to him on the end of a bench, Ori on her other side.

“Yuh,” she mumbled, yawning. Ori snickered and started picking strands of hay out of her hair. She rubbed her eyes to help wake up, and caught Beorn watching her.

Beorn as a bear was huge, she knew that. She also knew he was big as a man, but she wasn't exactly prepared for just how intimidating he was up close and personal. He stood, like, a whole three heads taller than her, and she was sitting down right now so he towered over her. When she realized she'd been gaping again she shut her jaw with an audible click of her teeth.

“Uh, sorry...” she murmured. Beorn simply turned away, and brought out another plate of food for the table.

Her stomach growled, but she hesitated to grab anything. Obviously the others had already started eating a little, but they weren't going to town like she was used to seeing. Was there something she missed sleeping in so late? Not everyone was at the table; just Bofur, Ori, Bombur, Bilbo, Dori, and Bifur. Sitting across from her was Bifur, and he must have noticed how unsure she felt because he slid a plate of sliced fruit towards her, grunting.

It was like a signal for the other dwarves. They passed around pieces of whatever else was on the table until there was a pile of food sitting in front of her. She couldn't help but smile at them gratefully, and dug into a hunk of bread.

“It's sweet,” she blurted, surprised. It was delicious, actually, is what it was. Ira's table manners may have suffered a little in the face of how hungry she was, and how good everything was turning out to be. Some of the dwarves laughed quietly at her, but mostly they went back to chatting, occasionally nibbling at some cheese or nuts.

She must have slept through all the talk about Azog and Mirkwood, since not everyone was around. Maybe Thorin and the others were getting ready to go.

“We're not leaving already, are we?” she asked, one cheek stuffed with food.

“No. It was decided we'd stay for a night or two t'rest, and Master Beorn has promised to resupply us with whatever we need,” Bofur answered for her.

“Yes,” she hissed happily, and cut up some more cheese cubes to go with the rest of her bread.

“I'd've thought ye'd already known that, eh?” Dori piped.

“Time is weird here,” she said with a mouthful of food again. “Everything is taking a lot longer to happen, otherwise it'd all have been over in less than a day.”

“Truly? The entire venture from start to finish?” Bilbo asked. He blinked owlishly at her, obviously surprised.

Nodding, she waited until her mouth wasn't stuffed this time. “Oh yeah. I didn't see hardly any of the downtime from traveling. Mostly just the important parts. Not to say I'm complaining. I'm just saying there wasn't any focus on the hum-drum of making camp every night for several months.”

“Slow down there, lass,” Oin said as he came up the stairs, watching her as she seemed determine to clean her plate. “Ye dunnae want t'eat so much so fast, nae after the lack of food we've suffered.”

She felt fine, though. Better than fine. It was great to not be so damn hungry anymore, and this was practically a feast. Oin shook his head at her when she didn't appear to be listening, and left her to it.

When she was full she decided to wander around the place to get a better look at everything. The cows sniffed her hand and licked her fingers when she came close, and she scratched their chins, marveling at how soft their fur was. The mice she made sure not to accidentally step on, and some even skittered up onto her hands to let her play with them when she sat down on the floor. She cooed at them, their feet tickling as they climbed around curiously. One of them made their way up to her shoulder, and got stuck in her tangled hair. It definitely needed to be brushed.

“I got you,” she muttered, reaching up to gently cup the mouse in her hands, and worked at untangling her hair from its legs. Snow White would be so proud of her right now, and Ira snorted at the thought. As soon as the mouse was free she put it back down on the ground where it ran away.

“You are not like the o'ters,” Beorn said behind her, and she jumped, making an embarrassingly squeaky noise. For a big guy he could move really quietly, holy shit.

“What? Sorry, what?” she stuttered.

“Your friends, you are not like dhem.” Looking all the way up at him could hurt her neck if she stared long enough.

“Well... I'm not a dwarf,” Ira said, not really sure what else _to_ say.

“No, you are not,” he said, and chuckled in a deep voice. “But it is more dhan dhat.” Then the silence stretched on, but he didn't move away. It gave Ira the feeling he was waiting for something. She had no idea what it might be though.

“Um,” she hedged, fidgeting nervously. Now was as good a time as any. “I, uh, I have something I want to give you. Is that okay?”

“What is it you want to give me?” Beorn asked.

“Hang on, I'll go get it.”

Ira went over to her pack and pulled out the bear figure she carved. It was about the size of a large apple, so it wasn't really very big. When she came back and handed it to him it only seemed that much smaller in his giant hands.

“It is a bear?” he asked uncertainly, turning it around to get a better look. Right. So she still had a ways to go before she could try selling her carvings at the Renaissance Fair.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling a little nervously, thinking maybe he didn't like it. “It's, uh, it's supposed to be you. You're roaring, see? Like when you were chasing us. I'm getting better at it, if you can believe that.”

Beorn's eyes crinkled in sudden grin, and he barked out in laughter, making her flinch and wonder who exactly was standing in front of her. The Beorn she had seen had never even smiled. “It is a fine statue. I am honored to receive such a gift. T'ank you.”

He moved away then, back up the steps to a mantle sticking out of the wall on the other side of the dining table. That's where she saw him place her bear figure. The dwarves watching this weird exchange looked back at her with confused expressions on their faces. She just shrugged a shoulder at them.

The next few hours found the company taking care of business. Beorn promised to restock their supplies as best as he could; Bombur and Beorn spent at least an hour going over his food stores, dividing everything up, packing them in bags, roping them into bundles, and generally gathering it all up to be ready to go when it was time to leave. Ira helped as much as she could, partly because she wanted to, and partly because Beorn had apparently warmed up to her and would ask (more like cheerfully _task_ , yeah, she'll use that word instead) her to run about doing this and that and the other.

He liked Bilbo a lot, too. Beorn thought it was especially funny when Bilbo would get huffy and affronted at him for having the nerve to call him a little bunny. Ira and Bilbo, between the two of them, covered a lot of ground doing everything Beorn wanted them to that early afternoon.

The dwarves were busy, too. For the most part. Ori and Dori spent most of their time repairing clothes. They even sewed closed the gaping hole the goblins clawed in the bottom of her pack. Ira couldn't be sure what Thorin, Dwalin, Fili, and Balin worked on, but she did see them talking with Beorn now and then.

Gloin, Oin, and to Kili's great displeasure if his pout was anything to go by, ended up doing everyone's laundry. She couldn't say what Bifur, Bofur, Gandalf, and Nori were up to, but all in all everyone apparently had something they were working on. 

By the time everyone seemed like they had everything done and ready to go whenever Thorin wanted it was mid afternoon, if she was going to try and guess. Several of them were lounging around the yard or in the house, when Beorn chose that moment to stroll on across the yard rolling the biggest metal basin Ira's ever seen.

He didn't even have to say anything. Dori popped inside to tell the others to come check out what the skinchanger was up to, and soon enough everyone had followed him to the back of his house where he righted the basin with an echoing metallic gong sound. Then he turned towards them all and placed a hand on the rim.

“I will have none of you sitting at my table again until you have all had a bath,” he announced. “You smell worse dhan my animals.”

Ira stifled her snorts of laughter into her hands. Well, they _did_ stink. She did, too.

Thankfully Beorn had a water pump they could draw water from so they wouldn't have to carry bucketfuls from where ever the closest source of water was.

It took longer than she thought it would to fill the basin up even halfway, but when they figured it was full enough she set her bucket down with the others and started walking away before Beorn's voice came out over the clambering voice of the dwarves as they started to argue over who gets to go first.

“Have you no manners at all? Who else should go first?” he rumbled, his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at them all. Then he looked up at her, and raised both his eyebrows.

Ira felt suddenly put on the spot when everyone followed his eyes to look at her, and she may have blanched a bit. “I usually go last,” she said when nobody else made to mention it.

Beorn huffed gruffly, and it was a huff that would give Dwalin a definite run for his money, before he turned his attention on the dwarves. “I do not like dwarves very much, but you are better dhan dhat. No matter,” he cut Thorin off when he muttered something about how she had been the one to decide when she bathed, “Ira will go first while you are guests in my home.”

Well okay then. At least the guys took it well. They even seemed to agree with Beorn about it, some of them quietly apologizing to her as they filed away to the front of the house so Ira would have some privacy, Beorn bringing up the rear. Then she was alone with the basin.

Instead of just hopping in and using the water in the basin, Ira overturned an empty bucket and used it as a chair while she scrubbed down, using another bucket to fill up at the pump and then rinse off with. There had been a lot of things she had to get used to that were gross, but if it could be avoided then she did at least try. Washing up like this wasn't hard, just tedious, and at least this way nobody would be using her dirty bath water.

After she'd gotten dressed in clean clothes (thank you Oin, Gloin, and Kili) Ira wandered back into the house where she puttered about, not really sure what to do with herself now that Beorn wasn't ordering her around. Twisting the wet ends of her hair around her fingers she decided to grab her cloak, and set it over the grass out front before lying down to let the sun finish drying out her hair.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew was someone's shout making her sit up in a rush, and she was scrabbling at her hip for her sword before she realized what was going on.

“Ori! Help!” Kili cried out. Fili had him pinned down under him on the ground on his stomach, and his hands behind his back.

“Now now, brother, let's not involve innocent parties. Concede honorably, hm?” Fili said casually.

Shit, she thought, rubbing her face irritably. Ira watched as Ori held his hands up to signal he'd rather not get his butt handed to him either, and Kili turned desperate eyes on her. “Ira! Don't let him win.”

“Sorry, Kili. I don't think I can champion you,” she called, settling back down on her cloak now that her heartbeat had returned to normal.

“Come now, don't be cruel. Help a dwarf out,” Kili whined, grunting while he struggled. Fili had him well and good, though, and he wasn't going no where. Ira just shook her head. What was she going to do, tickle Fili until he let go?

“I'll remember this in the days to come,” Kili promised dramatically.

Fili rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Do you yield?” he asked cheerfully.

Kili grumbled something she couldn't hear, but it must have been a yes because Fili let go of his wrists and stepped off of him. Fili swiped non-existent dust off the fur of his coat, and Kili glowered at him. The moment Fili turned his back Kili jumped at him, and they were rolling around in the grass again. Kili was rowdy and vocal, growling and shouting, while Fili barely gave a grunt or an oof. After a few minutes of wrestling around Fili had Kili's face kissing the ground.

“Not again,” Kili groaned, Fili sitting on his back once more and his brother's hands held firmly behind him.

“Need t'practice that move more,” Nori said, striding over and crouching down next to Kili. “Wouldn't'nae lost so easily if ye could break out of it proper like.”

Kili muttered darkly as he was let up, then glared at Nori and Fili.

“Don't sulk, Ki, you know he's right,” Fili said.

Things mellowed out a bit after that. Ira noticed that the sun was getting close to setting, and realized she'd been asleep a lot longer than she thought. Fili and Kili tromped their way back into the house, and the smell of food in the air finally made itself known to her rumbling stomach. Inhaling deeply, she got up to her feet and couldn't help but follow her nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo.... I have to admit something: I haven't read the books (GASP). I have read, however, that bookverse Beorn is considerably more cheerful, and does call Bilbo by little bunny, and I want a Beorn that isn't _all_ angstangstangst for the time I'm making them stay there.


	9. Animal Personas For $1000

As it turns out Bifur was the whittling wood master. Not to say that Bofur wasn't good at it – he rocked those hunks of wood – but like with Thorin and his weapons, there was just something special in the way Bifur went about his work.

It was some time in the late morning. Ira had woken up blissfully late again, ate her fill of breakfast, and staked her claim under a large tree in the front yard to do some whittling. She'd been trying to carve out a frowning Bilbo with a bunny nose and ears (because if Beorn thought his bear statue was funny, this would have him in stitches), but she just couldn't get anything to turn out right. The first block of wood was given up on, and she had started on the second one long enough to get a general shape of Bilbo's head out before Bifur sank down to sit in front of her.

At first Bifur tried to talk through a sort of crude game of charades. Ira could guess the simple things he wanted to get across. Apparently he wanted to know what it was she was trying to carve. She explained what she wanted, and he'd grinned, but then he seemed to be trying to say a lot more than she could figure out. It only got worse when the longer she went not being able to understand what he was trying to say that more complicated gestures started being mixed in. Finally, when it was clear he was beyond frustrated, he grunted loudly, threw his hands up, and stalked away.

She wasn't _trying_ to be stupid, she thought bitterly to herself after he'd disappeared into the house. She just couldn't understand what he was saying. Before she could really start to wallow in the sour mood she had been left in, Bifur came stomping back, and he was dragging a slightly flustered Ori behind him.

“Master Bifur said – well, he's asked me to translate for'em,” Ori explained when Bifur reached the tree, dropping back down in front of her. Ori sat off to their side more slowly.

“Oh, good. I'm trying, Bifur. I really am, but I just don't _get it_ sometimes,” she sighed. Bifur huffed, speaking in that other language while also making those complicated gestures that were obviously more than the dumbed down version of what he was doing earlier. The way he combined the two – like he was starting to say something with his voice, and then finished the thought with his hands, had Ori paying close attention to him rather than the book sitting in his lap.

“Master Bifur says, 'this I know, but trying does not necessarily equal success,'” Ori translated. Ira couldn't help the self-deprecating smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth hearing that.

Thanks to Ori, she found out her number one problem, apparently, was that she was rushing way too much. When she tried to complain about how she had to get as much carving done in the little time she usually had, Bifur leveled one of the most annoyed and unimpressed looks she'd ever seen, and she'd traveling with Balin how long now? It was very impressive.

“'Do not belittle your craft so. Do not work as would a sloth, for ye are not, but ye must always give it everything it deserves from ye, hear? Nothin' less, as ye seem so stubborn to suggest,'” Ori said after Bifur had finished.

Well, it... sounded good, when she thought about it. Give it your best effort and all. Maybe that's why she didn't know Bifur was so into his work until then, because he hadn't really made anything before. Now, as he took the time to show her what he meant, it was like that night sitting with Thorin, and he was teaching her how to clean her sword.

Bifur handled his own knife like it was a morbidly sharp and detachable finger. He didn't fumble, or make any slips, or drop it. He made carving look like a magic trick. Ira watched his hands carefully, trying to mimic everything he was doing. It was _hard_. Harder than she ever thought it could be. Bifur made it look so easy, damn it, how was he _doing that_?

Seeing her frustration growing, he set aside his own carving for a moment, and explained more again with his gestures.

“'Ye hack as if at an enemy. This is not the way. Feel your strokes; lead in all directions. Do not follow the stroke of the blade after ye swing it.'” Then he held out his hands. Not really sure what exactly he was after Ira just held out her own hands, knife in the right and carving in the left.

“'Relax',” Ori murmured as Bifur adjusted her grip on the knife marginally, and guided her fingers in the motions he preferred. “'Ye see?'”

It took her a few minutes of him still guiding the knife over the wood for her to really get what he was meaning. Before she had been sweeping the blade away from her like she was peeling a potato, at least on the parts she didn't have to slow down and focus more on for details. The way Bifur was doing it was like... was like sculpting clay. Or something.

Okay, so she didn't really know what to compare this to exactly. Nothing she'd ever done was anything like this. 

Several minutes passed like that, with Bifur showing her exactly what she should be doing, and how it should feel to do it correctly, before he nodded and let go to get back to his own carving. When it seemed like Bifur wasn't going to be saying anything again for a while Ori opened the book he had and started sketching.

The three of them spent the rest of the morning like this, sitting in a little group, each doing their own thing. Bifur would sometimes grunt his approval or fix her grip or technique when she needed it, and though it took her a lot longer to do, her carving of bunny Bilbo came out a lot better than all her other pieces before.

“'Aye, better. Practice, and work like ye _mean_ it. Every time.'” Bifur grunted something to Ori before he stood up and left the two of them there.

“Oh, man,” she groaned, arching her back and hoping it would crack. It did. “I need to move around. Think I'll find Beorn and show him my carving. Thanks a bunch for translating, Ori. You're a life-saver.”

Ira left Ori blushing at his sketchbook to walk around the yard. Several of the dwarves were lazing about, just enjoying the time they had to relax, for once. A few waved or muttered a hello, and she waved and muttered back, meandering her way around to the back of the house. There he was, with Bilbo over in the vegetable garden, and wandered over to them to see what they were up to.

It sounded like they were talking about gardening techniques. They looked up when she came close enough and smiled. Ira was right; Beorn _loved_ her bunny Bilbo carving. His laugh was booming loud, and Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest, huffing indignantly, but he did compliment her on how well it turned out (he'd seen Beorn the bear by then; at least his face hadn't been utterly ruined, thank you very much he said).

Probably trying to turn the topic away from the whole bunny thing Bilbo asked if she had any input on Beorn's plants, and she had to admit she didn't know the first thing about taking care of a garden. This opened up a whole new window into the world of tomatoes; Bilbo was only too happy to wax poetic about them. After all his tomatoes back at the Shire were last season's prize winners.

“Come you two. It is about time to begin making supper if I am to make enough food to feed all of dhese mouths,” Beorn announced suddenly, steering her and Bilbo into the house and up to the kitchen. 

At least Bilbo was eager to offer his help. Ira thought he must have missed his kitchen back in Bag End. When she had to admit she didn't really know how to cook much, Beorn gave her a pitying look she flipped him off for. On simpler things, like kneading freshly mixed dough for bread, they showed her how to do. Anything more complicated or required actual experience in making left her with being told where to find things and handing them whatever they needed. The smell of food brought a lot of the dwarves around throughout the day, but Beorn and Bilbo both chased them out every time they tried to poke their fingers in something.

“Leave it to me,” Bilbo said cheerfully when Beorn mentioned he needed to feed his animals before it got too late in the evening. “I've run a busy kitchen before, I'll have you know. You're in good hands!”

“I have no doubt of dhat,” Beorn nodded, and then looked to Ira. “Why don't you help me, hm? Follow me, little crane.”

Ira nearly tripped over her own feet. “What?” she asked, surprised. Bilbo rounded on her in an instant.

“Ah ha! Yes, you see? Quite different on the other end, isn't it?” he cried cheerfully.

“I'm a _bird_?”

“Well, your legs are rather long. A crane is very apt.” 

“Are you kidding me?”

Judging by the amused chuckling coming from Beorn, and the shit-eating grin on Bilbo's face, no, they were not. Ira was going to hide that carving of Bilbo as a bunny in his pack tonight for him to find later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more Bifur! By the way I am going to be pushing the fluff to the max for a bit before I'm done at Beorns. Hope nobody minds the filler-y-ness. We'll be back to actual progression soon enough.


	10. Can't Win For Losing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! A bit of a longer chapter (for me, anyways). Yay! Yay? Yay. Also so nobody gets confused this chapter immediately follows the previous. Meaning it's still the same day. I hope that isn't confusing, lol.

Ira felt like she had just opened up a whole new world to Middle Earth (or at least the dwarves of Middle Earth) when she presented the company with grilled cheese sandwiches. She was perfectly happy just helping out in the kitchen, but Beorn felt a mighty need to have her cook _something_. It was really weird how insistent he was about it, actually, and Beorn was not a guy you argued much with. Not being the chef Bilbo, Beorn or Bombur was, who could cook pretty much anything in her eyes, she was left to work with what she knew, and with what Beorn had in terms of ingredients, which meant grilled cheese sandwiches. With the exception of Bilbo, Gloin, and Ori, they were a huge hit. 

Conversation buzzed around the yard while they ate, some already going back to the table that was set up for the food for seconds, and everyone wondering where the extra sandwiches were. She'd only made enough for one per person though, because even then that was still seventeen damn sandwiches, and that wasn't including the 'experiments' before she figured out that a thick iron skillet didn't cook the same way a thin modern pan did. Thankfully Beorn's cows didn't mind the botched sandwiches; Beorn didn't like it when food was wasted.

After everything was eaten and the table had been cleared away they all lingered outside, basking in the feel of full bellies and awesome weather. Ira was humming to herself, finishing up a honey-cake Beorn baked when nearby Bofur suddenly jumped to his feet.

“That's the idea!” he cried, gesturing to her where she sat.

“Uh, sorry? What?” she asked, confused.

“Music! The lot of ye, up. Up! Not since Rivendell have we had a chance to have right, proper music.”

“We haven't got our instruments, or have ye forgotten we lost'em with the ponies?” Dori huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Ye've still got your mouth, from the sounds of it. And your hands and feet. We didn't need'em in Rivendell. Are we dwarves or aren't we?”

And just like that Bofur started up a song, the others quickly joining in. When the song picked up and became more lively, several of them gathered in the more open part of the yard to start dancing. It was simple at first, from the looks of it; just some tapping feet and slight twisting around. Sort of like line dancing, she thought, with a bit of tap or Irish jig or something. The pace of the dancing was picking up, everyone really started to stomp and turn about. It looked like a lot of fun, and Ira couldn't keep her knee from bouncing along.

They were pairing up, all of them singing while dancing, and the yard was suddenly a whirlwind of dancing dwarves. She saw Oin with Gloin, Dwalin ( _Dwalin_ for God's sake) and Balin, Fili and Kili (naturally). Ira was currently watching the two of them skipping around when something caught Kili's attention, and he swiveled his head around until he spotted her. Leaning in towards Fili he must have said something to him, because when he broke free from the dancing Fili kept going by himself.

He went after Bilbo first, who was off on the sidelines like her a little further away. They talked for a moment before Kili pushed a slightly reluctant hobbit into the fray, where Fili instantly took him up as a dance partner.

“You too!” Kili demanded cheerfully when he was close enough not to have to shout. He reached down to grab her hands, and pulled her to her feet.

“I can't, Kili. I don't know your dances,” she said, taking her hands back and holding them out in a gesture that said 'sorry, but what can you do?'

“And you never will if you don't get out there, will you? Nope!”

“Hey!” Ira yelped as Kili bent and swiped his arm against the back of her knees, making her fall backwards. He caught her as she fell, and carrying her like some kind of princess he spun around, skipping his way back over to an opening in among the dancers.

“Kili! Put me down.” She hit his shoulder, as if that could really did anything, and frowned as he stamped and twirled about. He didn't seem to be having to make an effort carrying her along, and for a moment Ira couldn't believe she was about to ask this, but she _was_ curious. “Aren't I heavy?”

Somebody shoot her for being so cliché.

“Heavy?” Kili asked, then laughed a little incredulously. “You? _Hardly_ ,” he grinned, and to prove his point he tossed her up into the air like she was a sack of potatoes or something. Ira cried out in surprise, and flailed her arms around. One moment she was up in the air; the next Kili had caught her again, and somehow he never even lost his rhythm. “See?”

“Okay! Okay, I see. Now put me down,” she griped, but couldn't help smiling. This was getting a little embarrassing for her.

“Only if you dance.”

“Kili!”

“Ira!” he laughed again.

Throwing her hands up in acceptance, she huffed. “Fine! You win. I'll _try_ to dance.”

Kili cheered, and paused long enough to set her back on her feet. Without really letting her get her bearings first he grabbed a hold of her hands and off they went.

At first she was really clumsy. While she was taller than the dwarves, she wasn't so tall that she couldn't reach Kili's hands; he did have to hold them up higher than normal though, or it was uncomfortable for her wrists. Plus she was just plain having trouble keeping up with the tempo. They made it look super easy, that's for sure, but now that she was out there on her feet she faltered a lot. Kili didn't seem to mind though, and when she saw it didn't make any difference to him if she stumbled, she let herself relax. Ira found that once she could do that, she didn't lose the beat as much. Maybe she had just been concentrating on it too hard.

They passed Bifur and Bofur as they skipped around, keeping their hands clasped. Kili made a motion that she let herself be spun into, and the both of them turned completely around, making an arch with their arms before meeting face to face again, both of them smiling. Ira let Kili guide their steps; they came close to Oin and Gloin, Nori and Ori, but never close enough to make her think they would crash into anyone.

Looking around to someplace behind her, Kili glanced from whatever it was to her and back again, raising his eyebrows questioningly. When he grinned, she tried to turn her head to see who it was he was making faces at, but she ended up stumbling and having to face forward again.

“Ready?” Kili asked over everyone's voices.

“For what?” He didn't answer, only glanced behind her again. “Kili?” 

He lowered her hands a little, and widened her arms before guiding her to twirl around, letting go as he did. Ira spun away from him, and in the time it took to blink just once she found Fili had caught her up as her new partner. 

Tensing, she looked from Fili only to find Kili dancing with Bilbo now, and when he caught her looking he winked at her. Pursing her lips, she wondered what he was doing, because it was obvious to anyone with eyes how Fili didn't seem to like being around her anymore. When she looked around she saw nobody else had changed partners, either.

“Kili didn't trod on your feet too much I hope,” Fili said over the singing, making her look back down at him as they moved along at a slower pace than she had been going with Kili.

Ira snorted. “I think I stepped on his feet way more than he did mine, actually.”

“I'm sure he enjoyed being the more graceful one of the pair for once,” Fili smirked.

“Did you just – rude!” Ira wasn't seriously offended, but she did roll her eyes before smiling a little.

“Me? Rude? Never,” Fili said, looking for all the world like the very thought was unheard of. It lasted only a few second before he smiled back.

When Fili clearly didn't seem to think having her for a dance partner was the worst thing that could happen to him she relaxed again, and let their singing reach down and reverberate in her chest. Fili noticed her loosening up; he gripped her hands a little more firmly, picked up the pace of their dancing, and began to guide her through more steps. He joined in with the rest of the others singing, and when they started over on the same song, she did, too. There were some parts she couldn't remember completely, but the ones she did she sang loudly. Fili grinned brightly at her when she did.

They stamped, skipped, and spun around the yard through the rest of the song, singing out together along with everyone else. When the company came up to the end of it this time their voices grew louder. Ira looked around her at everyone while Fili guided them. When the song was only a few verses away from ending suddenly he let go of her hands. Her eyes snapped back down to him, and when she opened her mouth to ask him why he let go she felt him grab her around the waist and lift.

Her question quickly morphed into a surprised laugh, and she braced her hands on his shoulders as he spun her around, still grinning brightly up at her through several turns. Her feet touched back down to the ground the same moment the song ended, and she leaned onto him a bit, waiting for the dizziness to settle.

Cheers went up in the yard as they all celebrated a good dance and song. Dwalin called for ale, and several cheers rang out again in agreement. Beorn looked to think about it for a long, hard minute before going inside his house, and reappearing with a large barrel under his arm.

“That was – awesome,” Ira huffed out, her hands still resting on Fili's shoulders while she tried to catch her breath. She couldn't seem to stop smiling.

“Glad you danced, then, eh?” Kili asked smugly, popping up beside them out of nowhere. Ira turned to face him, Fili's hands lingering on her waist a few moments before letting go. 

“Yes, you brat,” she reached out to pull on his ear, and he made a fuss like it actually hurt, but she knew better. “Thanks.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Thorin striding over to the three of them, and he didn't look happy. Well, he never looked happy, really, but he looked less happy than he normally did. Ira knew he was about to rain on someone's parade, and she thought it had to be her. Seriously? Right now? Leave it to Thorin to be the Debby Downer when she's having such a good time.

“Fili,” he said curtly, gesturing with a jerky head nod to a more private area. Then he turned and made his way there. Pursing his lips Fili followed.

“Um,” was all Ira could think to say as she watched them round the corner of Beorn's house, vanishing from sight. Okay, so she wasn't the one in trouble this time.

“I'm sure it's just something to do with the journey,” Kili muttered, frowning in the direction they'd gone.

“What's with the dour faces? Have a drink!” Bofur said brightly as he walked towards them, holding two large wooden cups out; one for her and one for Kili.

Ira took the one offered her, and peered down inside at what looked like beer. She gave it a sniff.

“Why the inspection, lass? It's just mead,” Bofur chuckled.

“I'm a picky drinker. I like sweet drinks.”

“Well, then are ye in for a treat. Master Beorn says he makes his mead from his own bees he does. If ye like his food, you'll like his mead.”

“Really?” she muttered, and took a small sip. Her eyes widened comically, and she stared at Bofur and Kili like she'd just won a prize. They burst out laughing at her. Ignoring them she took a longer drink, smacking her lips afterwards. “That _is_ good!”

“Be sure t'let him know, aye? It's always nice t'hear when folk enjoy your brew,” Bofur nodded to the both of them before walking away.

Kili stuck around while they drank. Well, she nursed, because it had been a long time since she last had a drink, and she didn't want getting shit-faced to sneak up on her. Kili knocked his cup back no problem. He chatted at her about the dance, promising to teach her more so long as they had the opportunity and the time. Considering their next stop was Mirkwood, and then Thranduil's dungeon, this was probably going to be the only chance anyone gets at a party for a while, but at least she could honestly tell Kili she looked forward to it.

“Ah, there's Fili. I'll catch you for another dance when we kick up another song, aye?” Kili walked backwards away from her long enough to see her nod, then turned and trotted over to his brother.

She watched them curiously; Fili looked pissed, actually, and after they spoke for a moment Kili didn't look as cheerful as he did two minutes ago. Fili made a weird shape with his fingers, then jerked his hand up to his chest. Kili's hands shot out to grab Fili's fist, and glanced around, like he was afraid anyone had seen. When he saw she was staring he smiled nervously, and then dwarfhandled Fili over to a tree.

The mead was making her head fuzzy and light by then. Her cup was nearly finished; only a bit lingering in the bottom, so she finished that, and went over to a cluster of dwarves standing around the barrel.

“Lassie!” Dwalin crowed, clapped her on the shoulder, and chuckled when she staggered forward from it. He took her cup without asking, and dipped the lip of it into the mead in the barrel, refilling it for her. “Fine dancing, fine singing. Right proper time had, indeed.”

“Um, thanks,” she smiled awkwardly, taking her cup back when he pushed it at her. It was rare for Dwalin to be in this good of a mood, but she wasn't going to chance ruining it by refusing alcohol. It would be just her luck that dwarves would find it incredibly offensive or something. Leave the job of getting on Dwalin's nerves to Nori, she thought.

Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Dori, Ori, and Bofur all thrust out their mugs to clunk together, and when they held them out a moment too long, looking over at her expectantly, she realized they were waiting for her to do the same. Ira smacked her mug into theirs, and they cheered before chugging down their mead, spilling some of it into their beards. No way was she going to be able to top that, so she settled for sissy sips.

“What's that, huh? 'S no way to drink!” Bofur cried when his mug was empty.

“I know my limits, and I like being able to remember the night before,” she said, ignoring his scrunched expression.

“Oh, ye poor dear,” Oin said, eying her pityingly. The others hummed in agreement.

“Aw, fuck off, guys,” she snapped irritably. 

“What have they said this time?” Bilbo asked, coming over to refill his own cup. That barrel wasn't going to last long at this rate.

“They're making fun of me because I can't handle as much to drink as them,” Ira grumbled into her mug as she took another sip.

“ _Nearly_ as much.”

“Really it's no competition whatsoever.”

“Our hobbit here could outdrink ye, I'd wager.”

Bilbo huffed indignantly. “I'll have you know, Master Dori, that we hobbits are excellent drinkers.”

“Now we've gone an' put both our wee members in a tizzy,” Balin chuckled.

“I'm taller than all of you!” she cried.

“Listen to him. ' _Wee_ members'...” Bilbo muttered.

“My good hobbit,” Ira sniffed, turning away from the rest of the company as dramatically as she could, her nose in the air. “Let's you and I leave these dwarves alone to their ridiculous notions.”

“I couldn't agree more, my good lady.” Bilbo held up his arm for her to take, which she did a little awkwardly since he was even shorter than a dwarf, and the two of them sauntered off together, leaving the others behind while they guffawed at their backs.

When the barrel was empty, they struck up another song, and went back to dancing. It didn't involved nearly as much movement, mostly just stamping in place to the beat and clapping. After that one, though, it was like the dance from before. There was one song that apparently required more complicated steps, and she sat out on that one with Bilbo, but they were dragged back in when it was over and the next song began.

With her head a lot lighter than before, she tripped every once in a while, but nobody cared. It was so much fun, and she ended up dancing with everyone except Thorin at least once. For some reason, Thorin wouldn't join in on the more involved dances, though he had clapped and stamped along to simpler ones. It was during a break to catch her breath she realized Fili hadn't danced at all after that first song. Making her way over to him where he was sat against the same tree from earlier, staring at his hands, she sank down next to him.

“You okay?” she asked. 

He merely nodded. Ira waited for him to say something, but he didn't seem like he was going to.

“You haven't danced again since earlier,” she tried again, and he gave a sigh like she was genuinely bothering him now. Well this was going downhill quick.

_Again_.

Might as well roll with it. “Is it because of Thorin? What'd he say to you?”

Fili glanced over at her, his expression sort of stony, but he took an obviously calming breath before he spoke. “Nothing to concern yourself with. I simply do not feel like dancing again. If you'll excuse me,” he said curtly, climbing to his feet and walking away.

Ira watched him go with an incredulous look on her face. What the actual hell? So they were back to this then. She shouldn't really be that surprised, she thought. One good moment wasn't going to suddenly make him want to be her friend, but for some reason, maybe because she was tipsy, who really knows, it hurt more than usual. It actually kind of really fucking hurt, thanks, and she felt herself getting angry.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered to herself, and got to her feet to catch up to him. He had made it through the doorway into the house before she came close enough to reach out and yank on his shoulder to make him turn around. “What the hell is your problem, Fili?”

“Why do you insist on pestering me when clearly all I wish is for you to leave me well alone?” he snapped, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

“Because I don't get what your _deal_ is! Why are you acting like this? Are you bipolar? Can dwarves even be bipolar?”

“I do not know what that words means, but it does not matter. This discussion is over.” Fili turned to leave again.

Ira reached out again to grab a hold the fur on his coat. “No, it's not. Just tell me what –”

“– _You are a nuisance_!” he said loudly. Breathing heavily through his nose Fili held still as a statue with his back to her. Ira let go of his coat like it bit her, and took a step back, swallowing thickly. A weirdly cold feeling bloomed in her chest, and steadily sank into her stomach.

“Fine,” she said, and Goddamn it her voice had a waver in it. That's just perfect. Ira could feel a burning sensation start up in her nose, and she was embarrassed to find her eyes tearing up. Not daring to blink so any would fall, she stared at the back of his head. “If you want to be such a cocksucker, _fine_.”

Not sticking around for another second, Ira turned and left the house. The company were all still singing a different song now, and though a couple of dwarves weren't dancing at the moment, most still were. She definitely didn't feel like dancing or singing anymore. Instead she made her way to the back of Beorn's house, leaned up against it and tried to keep her breathing from turning into a sob. She was an adult, for fuck's sake, and she was not going to cry over some stupid bullshit drama. This wasn't fucking highschool.

“You fucking asshole,” she muttered to herself before letting out a string of curses aimed at Fili. When that didn't make her feel better, she kicked several times at a pile of chopped logs, and watched them topple. That didn't make her feel better, either. Apparently she was just going to have to ride it all out. Giving up on her tantrum she worked on stacking the logs back up how they were. They were pretty big for logs; of course they would be if Beorn chopped them, she thought to herself. It turned out to be a good distraction, too.

By the time she was done the urge to cry had mostly gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I originally wanted to stay as far away from any type of... this *gestures to Fili* as much as possible. I apparently can't help myself. I have no idea what I'm doing. Lord, send me an angel.
> 
> Speaking of Fili, if you think he's being shirked to the side a little too much, and deserves some more love (because he's Fili, c'mon), check out this blog: feelsforfili.tumblr.com  
> What it's doing is holding little contests for people to make fics and art of Fili based on prompts provided. All the more Fili for everyone to enjoy. :D
> 
> Quick edit in note: Oh, I forgot to mention: Dwarves are probably (definitely) really very absurdly strong okay bye.


	11. Actual Disney Princess Ira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my party, and I'll write what I want to (but I hope you still enjoy).

“Up!” someone cried, and a moment later something heavy yet soft was dropped onto her stomach. Ira made a strangled hacking sound, the air unpleasantly pushed out of her through her stomach, and shoved the damned whatever it was off her.

“Who –” Ira squinted bleary eyes up to see her attacker. “ _Kili_.” She should have known, really. It was usually him. Instead of getting up like he wanted, Ira rolled over and curled up in a ball on her cloak in the hay.

“That is not up, Ira,” Kili chided, kicking at her feet.

“I will _end you_ if you don't go away right – now,” she snarled, her voice low and growly thanks to having just woken up in a really shitty way. Kili laughed at her.

“You'd have to get up first!”

Well, he was right about that. Ira roll back over, snatched her sword up from where it was propped against the wall, and scrambled clumsily to her feet. Then she drew her sword, and stomped straight at Kili.

“Ira? Ira, I was just – _you were serious_? Ira!” Kili turned tail and ran. She wasn't serious of course, and he damn well knew it, but she was still in a foul mood from last night. Being woken up by having – she glanced down to see what it was – her pack dropped on her like a rock definitely didn't help. When Kili rushed out the front door to get away from her she sheathed her sword, and strapped it to her hip, muttering under her breath about annoying shorties.

“Come over, little crane, and have some breakfast,” Beorn called from across the room. Yawning and scrubbing at her eyes on her way over, she took the apple he offered when she was close enough.

“Your leader wishes to leave dhis very morn, so do not take long. You must also check to make sure you have all your tings packed and secured. You might also wish to bathe first before setting off, if you leave yourself enough time.”

“Yes, dad,” she joked at him, huffing out a small laugh. There was a moment that followed where Beorn looked surprised, then stricken, and just as quickly his face softened into something sad but tender. He reached out a large hand to settle on top of her head, and she blinked up at him, confused, a half chewed bite of apple puffing out one of her cheeks.

It was only after he'd walked away that she remembered what he had told the company about his family. Well, shit.

Feeling a little like she may have overstepped her bounds, even though Beorn didn't get angry at her or anything, she quietly ate until everything on the plate he'd made up for her was gone. Then she went back over to where she'd left her stuff to get started on checking it over. Her pack was heavier now, though not by a whole lot. When they had divided up who was going to carry what it was sort of assumed that Ira still wouldn't be hauling much. She was kind of offended at first, but thinking back to last night when Kili had tossed her up in the air like he did that kind of thing every day she realized now that they were probably right to give her only so much.

Now, instead of being offended, she thought maybe it was their way of trying to be nice. Or efficient, maybe. Nice by some standards, efficient by others. Yeah, that sounds good, she thought.

“Ye've got a cute lil' army amassed there, don't ye?” Bofur said as he made to walk by her where she was sat.

“What?” Looking around her she only just then noticed all the mice. “Wow, that's... they've never done that before?” she said, her eyebrows rising as she twisted around to see just how many of them were gathering around. There were a _lot_. She actually didn't know that there were that many, since this was the first time she'd seen them all at once. Well, she assumed, anyways.

Ira reached a hand down to the floor for one of them to climb up on, and it was like letting go the gates to a flood. Instead of water though, it was mice. The ones puttering about by her legs were climbing up on her and over her lap. Her hand was suddenly full of mice, several tottering up along her arm. Sitting frozen so she didn't accidentally shake any off, she turned her head slowly to stare up at Bofur, who was slapping his knee laughing at her.

“Help,” she said quietly. Bofur only laughed harder. Then he stomped away, still laughing, and left her there with all the mice in Middle Earth climbing around all over her.

“What's this now?” she heard Balin say a minute later, watched Bofur come back with several others following. “Oh. Oh, my,” Balin then said, and he was chuckling now, too. His cheeks all round with a grin and eyes all crinkled, and he definitely wasn't the only one.

Bofur had brought half the company back to gawk at her.

“That is _not_ helping, Bofur. Oh, my God,” she griped, still as a statue. There was a mouse on her shoulder stretching up along her neck to nose at her ear. Its whiskers tickled a bit, but she couldn't move her arms to scratch for all the mice.

Ori crept closer, carefully avoiding stepping on tails and started picking mice off her, setting them on the floor and nudging them in the butt so they'd get the hint. Instead they scuttled back up to her. “What in Mahal's name is with these mice?” Ori muttered. “I've never seen the like.”

“Ori! Dunnae speak like that,” Dori cried. Ori shot him an unimpressed look.

“By Aule's beard,” Thorin said, striding up to the back of the group. Dori and Ori shared a look she couldn't even begin to describe. “What are you all doing just standing there –”

It was hard to imagine anything having the capability to shut Thorin up, especially mid sentence. He just wasn't the type to be stumped. But, she supposed, the sight of somebody covered in mice had a shot at it. A very, very slim shot, because a situation like this had to happen first, so it was like winning the lottery.

Twice.

Ira stared up at Thorin while he took in the scene, and thought she should buy tickets when she gets back to her world.

“The lot of you, back to work. We leave as soon as we're ready,” he ordered before turning away to leave.

The dwarves shuffled away then, except for Ori, who was still picking mice off her though it wasn't doing any good. “How're ye ganna get'em all off?” he asked.

“Can you go get Beorn? He might know. Ori, hurry, my shoulders are getting stiff.” It was a miracle none of them had crapped on her yet (that she had noticed anyways), but the longer she sat there the more she tempted fate. Ori nodded, and hurried away.

When they came back and Beorn saw her he busted out laughing.

“Dhe mice, dhey like you,” he chuckled, crouching down in front of her and making shooing motions with his hand. He also made these breathy whistling sounds with his teeth and lips. Amazingly this actually worked.

“I figured,” Ira snorted. “How are you doing that? Ori picked them off before, but they kept coming back. How are you making them leave?” she spluttered, watching them skitter away and disappear.

“Do not tell me you did not tink to simply make it known you wished for dhem to go?”

Well, no, she thought, but she wasn't about to say it. Instead she just hmphed, and when all the mice were gone made a thorough check for poop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Beorn can have bipedal dogs setting tables, then damn it I can have affectionate armies of mice.


	12. Muffled Sound of Surfaris' Wipe Out Playing In The Distance

As it turns out Beorns' horses were pretty big. Gandalf called them ponies, but ha, no; they were _horses_. She was nervous at first, but Beorn, being the lovable man-bear that he was, gave her a small sack of caramelized honey chunks to win over her horse with. From that moment on he was the biggest, sweetest baby, who Beorn said would do whatever she asked him to.

Literally. She could talk to her horse, and he would apparently do what she said.

They still wore those harnesses on their heads, but she probably wouldn't bother using it if her horse would go where she told him to. There were no saddles, though, or saddle-bags; just a couple of folded blankets. More for the horses comfort than theirs, if she was going to try and guess. The company wore their packs themselves, and anything extra was stuffed in front of them between their thighs.

“I'm ganna miss you,” Ira said, staring up at Beorn while the others were busy mounting up. And she really would. This was the last time she knew of that they'd see him. He could be grumpy, and demanding, but she appreciated his bluntness and humor. “Thanks for everything, Beorn. I forgot to mention it before, but your mead is awesome. Bofur told me I should tell you if I liked it.”

“I am glad to hear you tink so. You are welcome in my halls, little crane, if you are ever again in need of safety. Or if you would just like to visit, of course!” he grinned, resting a heavy hand on her head like before, but this time there was no trace of sadness on his face.

“That sounds good. Maybe I'll even challenge you to a game of chess.” She'd seen the board sitting on a large wooden table in a corner of his house. It didn't look like it'd been touched in forever.

“I look forward to it,” he said, and then picked her up to set her on her horse. She sputtered a bit, but it was over and done with in seconds, so there was no point in arguing about it. He gave her one more grin before moving off to say goodbye to Bilbo.

When they left they started off at a slow pace, the horses moving along at a walk. Without anyone bothering to ask about it the company formed a line. Gandalf lead the way, probably with Thorin in second, then Dwalin or Balin, but she couldn't exactly tell from her spot near the end. She was third from last when she twisted around to see, Bifur in front of her, and Bofur behind, with Bombur bringing up the rear.

Ira wasn't usually the type to wax poetic about landscapes, but damn, it was gorgeous out here. The weather was beautiful; the sun was nice and warm, sometimes hidden behind fat, puffy clouds; a cool breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and pine. Beorn had warned them about the orcs out there, but she didn't feel like she was in any danger. Azog was long gone by then, and Beorn was following after them. 

Plus it did help to have a little foreknowledge of the distinct lack of orc attacks on the way to Mirkwood. If anything she was more worried about the spiders, but until then she was as chill as a cucumber.

They stopped for a brief lunch and bathroom break a little before midday. Before they headed off again she gave her horse another honey chunk, petting him and telling him what a sweetie he was. He pawed the grass with a hoof, and held his head up, like he was showing off or something. The smug bastard.

There was an awkward moment where she was left standing there next to her horse, just staring at his back, wondering how exactly she was going to get back up there. There were no footholds to help her, and no Beorn to pick her up and set her on his back.

Going for inconspicuous as much as possible, she spied on the others mounting up, and saw that a few dwarves like Bifur and Nori were going around giving everyone boosts. She decided to wait until Bifur had worked around closer to where she was and ask him for help, but Nori beat him to it.

“As tall as ye are and ye cannae get a leg over?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, I've never even been on a horse until I met you guys. Gimme a break,” she grumbled. Ira crossed her arms, frowning down at Nori, and they just stared at each other like it was some kind of standoff.

Then something amazing happened. At least she thought it was pretty amazing. Her horse lowered down, and laid on the grass right next to her. When nobody moved he swiveled his head around to do that horsey exhale thing at her.

“I think he wants you to get on, lass,” Nori deadpanned.

“Is that normal?” she muttered, and awkwardly straddled her horse. When her butt was firmly planted on his back he suddenly lurched, climbing back up to his feet.

“Nae really,” Nori said before walking away. Huh. Well, that's pretty cool. Ira rubbed her horses' neck affectionately and thanked him.

After maybe half an hour of more walking, somebody at the front of the line thought they'd been going slow long enough, and they spurred their horses into a slow sort of trot. It was really bouncy, and she didn't much like it. Soon after that though they had the horses pick up the pace again into a faster trot, which instantly she hated even more. This trot was _terrible_ ; she felt like somebody was trying to impale her on something. There was no way in hell she could ride all the way to Mirkwood like this.

Thankfully the trot from hell didn't last long either, and now they were at what she assumed was a gallop.

Holy crap, she was actually riding a galloping horse right now.

It still wasn't smooth, but it wasn't as bad as before. Ira had a problem, though. Without a saddle to hold onto she felt like any second she could bounce off.

Ira tried leaning forward more, and settled for gripping her horses' mane. It did help a little, but there was still no where for her feet to go. They dangled awkwardly against his sides, so she tried tucking them up as far as she could bend them, but there was no way she could keep them there all day. How does anyone _do_ this?

They traveled on like that for a long while. There was a short break where they divvied up their water into a bowl for the horses to drink from before they were off again. Her horse did the thing where he laid down so she could mount up on him. Kili saw it this time, complaining about how nobody elses' horse was being so nice. Ira grinned at him and cooed at her horse. When early evening was approaching she figured they were going to spend at least one night out here before they reached Mirkwood.

God, by the time the sun was working on setting, she was done. Ira was done with horseback riding, no matter how sweet tempered he was. Her ass, spine, and legs were tired and sore, and her shoulders were stiff, her neck cramping from her pack. She was more than ready to get off for the night, but it didn't look like they were ready to stop yet.

The front of the line curved towards the left a bit as they rode along the top of a shallow hill in a more or less open field. Ira wasn't paying attention to the direction they were going, and when her horse leaned to follow the line her balance was jacked.

One second she was on top of her horse, leant forward again at a gallop, and the next it felt like her pack was dragging her down over his side.

There was a painful crunch as she landed on her shoulder, and she garbled out a curse. Her momentum carried her forward so she tumbled legs and arms over herself before she rolled to a stop on her side a little ways down the hill, her pack having come off somewhere behind her.

“Lassie!”

“Ira! Are you alright?”

“Lass, speak up – say somethin'.”

“Keep your horses! Oin –”

“Aye, I'm on it.”

It was a jumble of voices for a few moments, and when the world stopped spinning she uncurled herself from her ball to try and sit up. Oin was hurrying over to her from where the others were grouped up watching. Some had dismounted, but no one else came closer.

“Lass, oh Mahal preserve ye, are ye alright?” he breathed, dropping down to a knee and scanning her for obvious signs of injury.

“I think so? My shoulder hurts, but –” Ira stopped mid-sentence when she made to prop herself on her arms, but her left one wouldn't move. She stared at it a moment, trying again, and still nothing happened. Looking wide-eyed up at Oin, she gaped for a minute, not understanding. “My arm won't move. Why can't I move it? Why can't I – I feel it?” she asked, only just now noticing the numbness. It was a weird feeling, her shoulder being in pain, but everything under it just a strange sort of fuzz or nothing.

“Sounds as if ye've dislocated it, lass. I cannae see it proper, so I dunnae know how severe it is. Is there anywhere else that hurts? Any other injuries?”

She sat there for a moment trying to take stock. The pain from her shoulder was hard to look passed, but she figured if there was anywhere else that she'd fucked up then she should feel it, too, right? “No, I don't think so. Just my shoulder.”

“Wait here, and dunnae move. I'll be back in a moment.”

Oin was only gone a couple minutes. When he came back he had her pack in hand, and set it down next to her to rummage through until he pulled out a shirt she was meant to wear under her chainmail. Oin looped it under her limp arm and tied it off on her good shoulder, and she realized he was making her a sling.

“Now ye rest that arm there, and follow me back up the hill now. Dunnae worry, I got your things,” he said when she made to heft her pack up.

“Thanks, Oin,” she murmured. Ira felt a little wobbly on her feet after her tumble, but otherwise her legs seemed fine. There was a dull throb in the back of her head, but it was barely there. Together they tromped back up the hill, and the closer she got to the rest of the company the more embarrassed she felt.

Falling off her horse. _Ugh_. And it wasn't even like she could blame it on her horse, either. She just hadn't been paying any attention.

There was a little bit of a cluster when they joined everyone; Kili, Bilbo, Bofur, Bifur, Gloin and Ori all seemed to want to converge, but Oin's glare kept them from crowding too close. They tried to speak all at once, which made it hard to really tell much, but it wasn't like it was hard to guess the general idea.

“Are you kidding? After everything I've been through? You think a fall off a horse is ganna do me in?” she said lightly, scoffing for effect. Maybe if she didn't make it into a big deal, they wouldn't either.

“Falling off a horse at a gallop can be quite dangerous, m'dear,” Gloin hmphed, but he looked relieved.

They all chatted at her, trying to be cheerful or saying how glad they were that it wasn't worse. Oin went off to talk to Thorin, it looked like, and when he came back he didn't bring her pack with him.

“You're goin' t'need t'mount up again, lass,” he said, and Ira felt her face grow cold at the idea. “We'll keep it slow and simple; nothin' like before, aye? We just need t'make it to the cover of them trees over yonder t'set up camp. Won't be hard.”

Her horse was shifting anxiously from hoof to hoof where he stood, and when she went up to him he nosed at her, blowing her hair back with a snort. He actually sort of seemed like he felt bad; or maybe she was just imagining it. “It wasn't your fault,” she murmured to him anyways, petting his neck reassuringly with her right hand.

They went through what was becoming their mounting routine, and he definitely seemed as if he was being more careful now. Like he was trying his best not to jar her. Ira promised him two honey chunks when they stopped for camp.

Once in the cover of a group of trees everyone went about dismounting and getting things set up. At least Ira could get off a horse like everyone else by then. Oin was at her side in a second.

“Dunnae worry over your things for now, lass. Come with me.” He gestured for her to follow him. Oin lead her several feet from the rest of the company, and made her stand next to a tall, thick tree, effectively blocking her view of camp. “Now then, if ye'd please remove your jerkin. No shame if ye need any help, either,” Oin said bluntly.

“Uh?” Ira blurted.

“Your shirt, lass. I cannae check over your shoulder with it on, now can I?”

Well, he had a point. He was just trying to be a doctor. Not weird at all. 

So she did as she was told. His last comment made a lot more sense, too, when after a minute of trying to do this one handed she was fumbling more than anything. They shared a look when it was beyond clear that she couldn't do it by herself. “Alright, fine. Help?” she grumbled.

“If ye could lower down a bit so I can reach, that'd be mighty fine,” he said cordially.

Ira sank to one knee then the other, her legs completely shot after riding all day, and together they finally got her shirt off. Oin stood at her left side, and gently ran his fingers over her shoulder. It still hurt, but not as much as before.

“Aye, it's dislocated. Not t'worry, we can have it fixed in no time at all. It's nae ganna be fun, mind, but if ye do as I say we'll be back before supper's even started. Now, I'm goin' t'lift your arm slowly, like so...”

Although she was confused about what he was doing, (didn't he just have to shove it back into place or something?) he was patient and cheerful with her. Oin really was a great doctor; more than she could say for a lot of the times she's had to go see one back in her world. He was talking to her through the motions with her arm, and quietly instructing her on how to brace herself.

Flinching suddenly when he lowered her arm again, Oin hummed. “You're doin' fine, lass. We're almost done. Just need one last –”

“Ow!”

“ – and you're all fixed,” he finished, chuckling. He rubbed her arm a bit, probably to help soothe the feeling coming back, and helped her put her shirt back on. “Dunnae move it if ye can help it, hear? Put your arm back in that sling for now.”

“Thanks, Oin.” When he put his ear trumpet up she spoke a little louder. “You're awesome, you know that, right?” Didn't even feel weird about her boobs hanging out after all, but she probably shouldn't mention that, or actually make it awkward that way.

“That's kind of ye t'say,” he said, patting her good shoulder gently, and then he helped her up to her feet before they went back to camp.

“Will she live? What's the word, Oin?” Kili asked the moment they came within view, abandoning his job at peeling potatoes. Bofur grumbled at his back.

“'M afraid it's terminal, lad. Say your goodbyes sooner rather than later,” Oin said, his tone grave.

Kili played out the drama queen really well. Ira and most of the others laughed at him before he settled down, taking his place back next to Bofur, who had his unpeeled potatoes ready and waiting. As she was making her way over to where her pack was sat on the ground Dori came over to her.

“Here ye are, lass,” he said, holding a long, wide strip of material out to her. It looked like he'd sewn the ends together so it wouldn't come apart. “Use this. It'll be better than that make-shift thing ye've got on now.” He actually glared disdainfully at her shirt-made-sling. “Here, let me help ye.”

She was pretty sure she could do at least that much by herself, but he was just trying to be nice, so she didn't say anything. He helped loop it over her head, and it did rest much more comfortably on her good shoulder. “Thanks, Dori. That's really sweet of you.” Ira ran her hand over her new sling, and when she suddenly recognized what it looked and felt like, she froze. “Dori, is this – did you make this from _my cloak_?”

“Where else would I get the material from?” he asked rhetorically, taking his seat again by Ori.

Ira moved the rest of the way over to her pack, and folded neatly next to it was her cloak. She'd packed it before they had left, and when she lifted it up with her right hand she saw that it was a good foot shorter than before.

For a second she was incredibly annoyed, but then figured what the hell. It's already done, and her new sling was better. Still, maybe next time there was an accident she ought to ask them to not cut up her clothes if it could be helped. After all she only had so many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of excited about this injury, actually. Honestly I think she should have been banged up a lot more than she was when the company fell down the tunnels to Goblin Town. So this is sort of my way of making up for that, lol.
> 
> I have never dislocated my shoulder before. What you've read above is an amalgamation of a bunch of Google searches and Youtube videos I watched of people (trying, mostly) to put a shoulder back in place.
> 
> Sorry if the whole super-intelligent horse thing seems ridiculous. I always liked that Bilbo talked to Myrtle like she could totally understand him, and Beorn's animals are all said to be very smart (if not suspiciously sentient), so I kind of stretched things a bit.
> 
> Nori sneaking hintful innuendos in, hahah.
> 
> Last, but not least, I didn't write anyone playing chess. *Broods over in the corner.*


	13. Today Must Be A Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my God. My deepest apologies. I told myself when I uploaded this story that I would never let it lie, and then I let it stagnant for a couple months. I have no excuse, really. Without further ado -

Waking up the morning after her tumble, before she'd even sat up, Ira could feel the signs meaning her period loomed on the horizon. Its inevitable return made her curl up into a ball and groan. Well, it had to happen some time, she thought.

Ira gave one more annoyed little huff before sitting up to put her bedroll away. Then she pulled out her new wooden bowl (generously donated to her by Beorn) along with her mooncup. The old bowl she'd been using to sanitize her mooncup in had been lost back at the goblin caves, and she sincerely hoped it found its way to some goblin's dinnertable.

“Ladle me up some of that hot water, would you, Bombur? Thanks,” she mumbled by way of greeting, ending in a yawn. Lucky she woke up before anything was set to stew. With the bowl half full she dropped the mooncup in it, and set it before gingerly sitting next to Bombur. He raised his eyebrows at the arm in its sling, and Ira went on to demonstrate she could still hold a carrot in one hand, and a knife in the other just fine.

Sitting companionably quiet together, Bombur stirring the stew, Ira rubbed at her eyes while she watched the others go about their own business. Fili, Kili, Bilbo, and Ori were all missing from camp, so they must have gone to refill the extra waterskins for the day. Gandalf, Dori, and Bifur were over by the horses, and looked like they were feeding them. Ira couldn't see what, though. Bofur came striding over with a sack over one shoulder, whistling cheerfully. Ira yawned again, still half asleep.

“Mornin' ye two. Say, Miss Ira, why do ye cover your mouth when ye yawn?” Bofur asked as he took a seat on the other side of Bombur. She blinked stupidly at him while he started pulling potatoes out of the sack. “I mean ye don't always do it, but mostly ye do. Has me wonderin', is all.”

“I never really thought about it,” she murmured. “There's probably something behind it, but I don't know why people do it.”

“Aw, ye don't say,” Bofur hummed before he started back up with his whistling, and pulled a potato out of the sack to peel.

As usual shortly after breakfast and the morning potty break everyone set off for the day. It couldn't be helped that they were going at a gallop again, not if they wanted to reach Mirkwood any time soon, but at least Ira was more alert. Morning turned into early afternoon, and nothing bad happened, though she was sore from all the riding yesterday, and today it was making her shoulder go from a dull ache to actual pain. To top it all off she was feeling vaguely nauseated, too. She figured that had something to do with her cramps.

The clouds were getting darker as the day wore on. Raindrops fell lightly now and then, but no outright rainfall yet. Her cloak was stuffed in her pack, but she wasn't prepared to try and fish it out while they were still riding. Though it wasn't particularly chilly out the dampness from the stray, light rain couple with the wind from riding made her feel cold. Shivering on her blanket-saddle, she ground her teeth to keep from cussing every few minutes.

Today was just _not_ her day. It was actually a relief when she saw the treeline of what had to be Mirkwood in the distance.

Ira was obviously the only one to feel happy about making it to the boarder. The horses grew more agitated the closer they got, some outright stomping their hooves when they finally came to a stop. Bilbo looked a little pale in the face as he stared out into the trees. They _did_ look kind of ominous; all pointy and dark, almost black, but she couldn't really feel anything wrong like everyone else seemed to. The elven gate Gandalf walked passed was a contrasting white, and when she awkwardly dismounted to get a better look they seemed more like giant antlers growing up out of the ground instead of the trees she assumed they were.

“Here, you can have the rest,” Ira told her horse when she made to take her pack off his back. He ate what was left of the honey-cubes, and nudged his nose into her good shoulder, snorting. She pet him goodbye before she started pulling her banged up armor out one handed.

It was obvious she was going to need help, but before she could open her mouth to even ask Kili silently came over and motioned for her to hand him the first piece. She didn't miss the glances the rest of the company gave her. Thorin especially looked grumpier for it.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” she asked quietly while he buckled a battered pauldron on for her.

“You are donning your armor again,” Kili muttered, keeping his eyes on her shoulder. He tugged on her pauldron to make sure it was set firm enough. At least that was her good shoulder. She silently hoped he wasn't planning to go yanking her bad one around.

“Well _duh_ , but why would that make everyone look so unhappy?”

“If you would choose to wear your armor, we must suspect you know something is to happen. It doesn't help that we cannot know what that something is.”

Oh, well that made sense, she guessed. Should she tell them about the spiders? Ira stared at Thorin while he stared back, that signature scowl on his face. Before she could come to a decision Gandalf started up his fuss about having to leave them. He spoke quietly with Bilbo, and they had their tense moment together. He warned the company to stay on the path (several times), and just as he turned away a final time to mount up Ira hurried over to him and snagged his sleeve.

Looking down from up on his horse Gandalf regarded her pointedly. “Yes, my dear? You have something you wish to say?”

“Uh,” she blurted, and then paused. “Uh, well. Just – you know, goodbye...” Ira trailed off, still gripping his sleeve. Gandalf cleared his throat. Right. Pressing graveyard matters and all. “See you later, Gandalf.”

She let go of his sleeve then, and after another moment of him lingering to eye her shrewdly Gandalf nodded once, and then he was off.

The rain had really started to fall then; big, fat drops splatting on her head and cloak. They stood clustered in front of the elven gate, and watched Gandalf ride away before Thorin gave the order to get moving. Ira waited while the rest of them tromped forward, looking for a giant bear perched on a tall, rocky hill some distance away. When she spotted him she waved with her good arm, then turned and brought up the rear to the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much this chapter, but I'm going to ease a little bit back into updating.


	14. Technically She Is An Alien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am amazed and flattered by the attention this story has gotten so far. 1k+ hits? I never imagined... Just - thank you so much, everyone.

They hadn't been in Mirkwood very long, but so far Ira was not impressed. After all the build up before going in she had yet to see anything weird about it. Sure, it was a little darker than normal, but the leaves on the trees were really thick, so that made sense. Despite what she thought about it, though, the dwarves seemed to take it seriously enough; nobody'd struck up any kind of small talk. Bilbo looked the most affected of anyone. He was tense, jumpy, and sometimes he'd make a face like he tasted something bad. Ira stuck close by him the whole time as they went along, hoping somehow having someone _not_ in a terse mood nearby helped. There was a moment where he hadn't been paying attention to the ground, and he stumbled over a broken tree branch lying in the path. When he righted himself she reached down to squeeze his hand, and he gave her a strained little smile.

If nothing else she was glad for the slow pace they were going at. The nausea from horseback riding was gone, thank God, but she still felt crampy and sore. She took out her waterskin to take a drink, and looked to the front of the line for lack of anything else to really do. Thorin was at the head with Dwalin, the two of them poking at the ground with their weapons, and sweeping the leaves away with their feet to keep track of the almighty path.

Not that she was very good at telling exact time without the help of a watch, she guessed it must have been about three hours later when Thorin called for a break. Probably had more to do with the open space than anything else; they'd come up to a widely clear area, the stones of the path cutting down the middle, and there was plenty of room for the company to gather around in a group to set things up.

“Pair up, and do not stray from sight of the camp,” Thorin ordered. For a moment Ira felt like she was back in school when the teacher told the class they'd be working in groups, and she turned to look towards Bilbo. She was only a little disappointed to find him shrug sheepishly at her, and gestured towards Bofur, who had his arm slung over Bilbo's shoulder.

“C'mon, lass. Ye and I can go gather the firewood, aye?” Gloin spoke up from her side. Expecting her to follow him he didn't wait before he turned, and made his way between two trees. Ira jogged to catch up to him, and started picking up any sticks she came across, cradling them to her chest with the arm in its sling.

Between the two of them they gathered enough firewood to last for a long lunch. She and Gloin dumped their loads next to the pit Oin dug for the fire before crouching to help. Once the fire was built up enough any sudden wind wouldn't just blow it out again, Ira helped set up the spit. Bombur hung up a pot, and everyone made a round to pitch in a little water from their skins to fill it so he could could get a stew going.

While lunch was being made Ira took the time to go to the bathroom, and empty her mooncup. When she came back Oin wanted to take another look at her shoulder. He took her arm out of the sling, and guided it through a few movements. He asked her how she felt, and she told him she was fine, just a bit sore. He nodded, satisfied, and left her to lounge back against her stuff while everyone fiddled and shifted restlessly.

“Can ye not feel it?” Ori asked suddenly. It made everyone turn to look at him, and he ducked his head, embarrassed. It took Ira a moment to realize his question was aimed at her.

“Oh, uh,” she mumbled. “Not really. What does it feel like to you guys?”

They muttered among themselves at first, voices low and grumbling.

“Bad.”

“Like a pressure on the shoulders, pressing down.”

“The air is thicker than usual. Have ye really not noticed?”

“Mayhap somethin's out there, watchin'.”

Ira shook her head. “I'm not getting any of that. Maybe because I'm not from here? I dunno.”

“Could just be that ye don't have keen senses,” Nori piped. Ira glared at him. “Well, ye _don't_ , now do ye?”

“Keen enough to know when you're being an ass,” she grumbled, loud enough for him to hear. Nori laid a hand over his heart all theatrical like.

“Enough,” Thorin called, forever frowning. “I will tolerate no childish nonsense this day; not in this accursed forest. We move on as soon as we've eaten.”

That was just fine by her. She gave Nori one more dirty look, but he wasn't even looking her way. She hadn't forgotten about getting even, but Thorin was right. This wasn't the place for stupid shit. She might not feel anything wrong in the air, but she knew better than they did what was out there waiting for them.

Everyone grew quiet again, even as they ate. Well, they didn't talk, anyways. Some of them slurped their lunch loudly, so that definitely didn't qualify as quiet. Ira tried to ignore it as best she could by wondering how long they would actually be in Mirkwood. A few days? A week? A _month_? It couldn't be too long, she thought. Not when they were running out of time to make it to the mountain. Ira thought about asking Thorin when Durin's Day was, and then decided not to. He was already in a bad mood, partially because of her (again). Kili might know, but he hadn't left Fili's side since they entered the forest, and she was still mad at him; mad enough to not want to be near him.

When the pot was empty and everyone had finished eating they gathered up their things, and put the fire out. She shrugged her pack up into a more comfortable place on her shoulders, and fell in line as they continued on along the path, mostly in the same order as when they'd started. It wasn't by much, but she did think the general mood of the company was a bit better than it was before they'd stopped. Probably because of the food. What wonders a full belly could do for morale, she thought with a silent chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is wondering about extended scenes making it into this story, I'm afraid to say that no, they won't. When I began writing this story it and chose to keep it in accordance to movie events, it was with the theatrical versions available. I feel as if I should stick to that pattern.


	15. Tried And True Methods

“I will take it,” Ira cried loudly over their arguing voices, hoping they would just _shut up_ for a second. “I will take the first sip of water.”

Hey, if it worked for Frodo, it could work for her, right?

And they _did_ quiet down; everyone in the company turned their heads to look at her. 

Wow, okay. So that was kind of awesome. She couldn't help but grin at them, enjoying the moment. Several of the dwarves raised their eyebrows at her.

“Then let's get on with it,” Thorin said, his arms crossed. Ira snorted. Oh, sure, if _she_ was the test subject then that was just fine. 

Unfortunately for them, they'd hit a little snag in the journey. They had officially run out of water. However Thorin (though his paranoia was shared by everyone but her) didn't want to risk drinking from the first and, more importantly, only stream they'd come across so far. The path ran parallel to it for a short distance, from what she could tell, so it was now or until they got lucky again, which could be never. And if there was one thing this adventure taught her it was that water was pretty fucking important.

“I've heard tell of a cursed river in these woods, lass. This could be that river. Ye still want t'risk it?” Gloin asked, striding over to stand in front of her. Ira saw several others – Bilbo, Kili, Bofur, Ori, Bifur, and weirdly Fili – all looking mildly worried (or more likely constipated, in Fili's case).

“It's cool, guys. I got this.” At least, nobody in the movie drank magic water and had anything bad happen 'cause of it. 

“If you're sure...” he muttered, backing out of her way reluctantly. She reached out to give his shoulder a squeeze, and he nodded, reaching his own hand up to pat hers before she let go to get close to the bank of the river. She had to climb over several tree roots, and down a bit of a slope to reach it.

Ira flicked the cork of her waterskin off with her thumb, crouched to dip it into the water, and waited until it filled to stand back up. She turned to face the company, closed her eyes dramatically, and took a long pull.

“Well?” Bofur said when she just stood there for a moment, letting them bask in her theatrics.

Ira smacked her lips noisily then opened her eyes again. “Tastes kind of mossy. I'm not dying or anything though, I don't think, so I'd say that's a plus.” She flashed them a toothy smirk.

Well, at least that seemed to settle it. Dwalin stayed rooted to the path, the end of his axe planted on a stone while the rest of the group lined up behind her to drink until their guts were full to burst, and their waterskins were gloriously heavy. Ira moved to stand next to him while he waited for Thorin to finish and take his place.

“That was mighty foolish of ye,” Dwalin growled lowly. She glanced at him, but he kept his eyes forward.

Ira shrugged her good shoulder. “We needed water.”

His only response was to grunt.

“If it's safe to drink, shouldn't we bathe while we've the chance?” Bilbo asked as everyone was shuffling gear, ready to be on their way. There was a pause as they thought on it. Ira wanted very much to be clean. She practically vibrated where she stood, trying to make Thorin say yes with her mind.

“Could be a while yet after this...” Dori muttered. Several voices murmured agreement.

Thorin pursed his lips, but nodded curtly. All at once dwarves moved to make like they were setting up camp. Their usual circle was more like a stretched oval, since the area the path was running through wasn't very open. There were several large trees nearby, their roots and large rocks making it hard to find even ground. Still, Oin and Gloin set to with digging a couple small pits for fires along the path. Ira made herself useful by gathering up the firewood as per usual.

“Do I still get to go first, or are we going back to our regular routine?” she asked when the fires were going, and the bathroom dug out behind a big tree at the far end of their group. Everyone had begun to shed their outermost layers of clothes to get ready to go down to the water. Privacy just wasn't going to be able to be much of a thing today, apparently, so she made to start on her armor where she sat.

“I see no reason why ye cannae still go first, lass. It is, after all, only proper,” Balin answered, nodding with a small smile.

“I think it's time t'let that arm out of that sling,” Oin announced to her as she slipped her armguard off.

“Already?” she asked, surprised. “But it's only been, like, a week.” Not being great at remembering to keep track of the days, she only knew because her period was nearly over. She'd find that out soon enough.

“What's that?” Oin grumbled, holding his battered ear-trumpet up.

“I said that's kind of soon, isn't it?” 

“Well, ye cannae have it in that thing forever, now can ye?” he huffed.

He was the doctor, she thought, and made to take the sling off. There was no pain, but lifting her arm up passed a certain point there was still a lingering soreness. Oin nodded when she told him, but that was all. Ira found that she really missed being able to use both hands. Thank God nothing ended up broken. That would have sucked so hard.

With her armor off she gathered a change of clothes, and a scentless bar of soap Beorn had given her. On her way to the water she stopped to stand next to Nori, and narrowed her eyes down at him where he was reclined against a tree root.

“Don't you dare even try,” she said, her voice low.

She couldn't read the look on his face, damn him, but she guessed it had to be mocking her _some_ how. Sitting next to Nori was Ori, and he leaned closer before he gently rested his fingertips on Nori's arm.

“Nori,” he said quietly. “Don't. Please?” Nori turned to stare at Ori so all she saw was the back of his tri-star head, but it seemed like they shared a meaningful look. Then she heard Ori whisper, “She's my friend.”

Something in Ira's chest did a funny little flip when she heard that, and she felt it grow fuzz. It must have, because she felt fuzzy. Fuzzy and warm.

Yep, that just totally happened. She got the warm fuzzies.

Nori muttered something she didn't understand, then nodded once. Ori utterly beamed at him, and then he turned that sunshine smile up to her. Ira couldn't help but smile back; she'd never seen someone look so happy over... well, she wasn't exactly sure what just happened, but she knew Nori wouldn't be trying to sneak a peek.

“Miss Ira, would you kindly stop wasting everyone's time?” Thorin said, completely ruining the moment. She scrunched her nose, making a face at him.

“Has anyone ever told you what a mood killer you are? Seriously. That was a moment right there. I had fuzzies and everything,” she grumbled.

“ _Move_.”

“Alright! I'm going.”

When she got to the bank of the water and started stripping she heard Bofur mutter to someone, “What are fuzzies, do ye think?”

A moment later Bilbo answer, equally as quiet, “I don't know, but if I had to guess? Some sort of feeling.”

“It was,” she sighed, stepping into the water to start washing. “A good feeling.”

Ira scrubbed down quickly but thoroughly; nobody started any kind of conversation, so the silence made her splashes that much louder, and it was kind of awkward to be so aware of how close everybody was. She tossed them glances, but they all stayed politely faced away from her. Her mooncup was blood free, so she washed that while she was there, though she still planned on sterilizing it when they stopped for the night. The last thing she needed was some kind of vaginal infection. For a brief moment she imagined having to pull Oin off to the side to quietly ask him for help, and winced. No thanks.

Hair washed and rinsed, Ira wrung it out, dressed, and trudged her way back over the roots to where everyone was. “M'kay, I'm done. Have at it.”

It took them a minute, but they decided to go by threes, which meant they'd be there for a little while. Ira sat on the ground near one of the fires, and used her fingers to comb out her hair. Still nobody made any small talk; the only sound she heard were the dwarves down in the water, and the fires popping.

Suddenly it hit her how weird that actually was. She paused, her fingers still in her hair, to try and listen for any other sounds. Even with her paying specific attention for them there still wasn't anything else to hear. Ira looked up at the trees, her brow furrowed. There wasn't any birdsong. She couldn't even hear any animal chatter, or bugs. It was way too quiet for a place that ought to be bursting with life.

Well that's just fucking creepy, she thought.

By the time the rest of the company had all bathed and dressed her hair was dry, and she had her armor back on. They put out the fires, covered the hole they used for the bathroom, and marched onward along the path. Bofur was walking close to Bilbo, so she dropped back next to Ori. He gave her a small smile, and she tapped his shoulder with her fist. The two of them walked on together for the next several hours until the dim light filtered through the leaves turned to actual night time darkness, and they were forced to make camp since they couldn't see for shit anymore.


	16. Too Old For This Shit

Dim splotches of color flickered and slid around under her eyelids as she rubbed the heels of her hands against them. Ira was sat as close to the fire as possible without being in danger of anything catching, and tried to focus on following the colors around in the blackness instead of on the utter darkness that was beyond the light of their camp. The voices of several dwarves as they argued sounded slightly muffled, like they were on the other side of a cheap door.

They were out of food, and so far nobody could come to a conclusion on what to do about it. There weren't any animals in the area to hunt. It wasn't like they could just send a small party out to fetch anything, and their snares turned up empty every time they checked. Thorin grumbled something about not trusting any of the vegetation, though from what she gathered there wasn't anything really edible to be had, either. Her stomach growled, not for the first time that evening, and she dropped her hands to settle them over her empty tummy. Sitting on her left was Dori, and he shot a glare at her.

“What?” she snapped, her voice low.

“It's not like we're not all hungry. Ye don't have to bloody well parade it about,” he sniffed, lifting his head up so he was looking down his big-ass nose at her.

“Excuse me? What the hell is _your_ problem?”

Instead of rising up to confront her like she expected him to he merely hmphed before he turned and moved away to put a few other dwarves between them.

“Snob,” she muttered nastily under her breath. Bifur, who'd seen and heard the whole thing, leveled an unimpressed look at her. He grunted something she couldn't understand, made a gesture, and left her sitting there, too. Ira grit her teeth to keep herself from saying anything this time. With everyone acting so pissy it was good riddance anyways.

Ira had tried not to be so cranky. She really, really had, but she was so damn hungry now, and she knew everyone else was, too. Dori didn't need to remind her, and it certainly didn't help her to keep her attitude in check when everyone else were being douchier the longer they went without eating. Now she was just trying not to take anything personal since not biting everyone's head off was obviously a losing battle.

Deep breath, she thought. When she did she couldn't help but be reminded how the air felt thicker. Maybe it had something to do with the mood from the company. She couldn't really tell, but she definitely didn't like it. It felt as oppressive as she'd always heard it described. At least some of the company could keep their heads better than others. Balin was practically diplomacy incarnate; even now she could hear him trying to keep Dwalin from sucker punching Nori. She didn't catch why, but whatever it was she knew he deserved it.

“ _Ira_.”

As casual as possible Ira looked up and around at those nearest to her, and when she saw nobody had actually spoken to her she dug the heels of her hands back over her eyes. Go away, go away Goddamn it, she thought at it angrily.

The first time she heard someone calling her name and nobody owned up to it she thought it was just a joke; boredom made people do stupid shit all the time. Whatever. The second time wasn't funny, and still nobody would fess up to having said anything to her. The third resulted in an ugly argument made up mostly of name-calling. When it happened a fourth time she decided to not bring it up, and she swore she actually heard _laughter_.

That kind of decided her then; Mirkwood officially sucked, and it could fuck right off with its eerie silence, oppressive air, creepy mind voices, and pitch black nights. _Especially_ night time, with no stars or moonlight.

The dwarves still hadn't come to a solution about food. They broke up their little discussion circle to settle down for sleep. Nightwatch had turned into a three dwarf job now; Fili, Kili, and Bofur taking the first round. Ira stayed where she was by the fire. She didn't like to be too far away from it at night anymore. If anyone had asked her if she was afraid of the dark she'd deny it until she turned blue in the face, but she _was_ , and it pissed her off more than anything else in that stupid forest.

She used to be afraid of the dark when she was a kid; Ira had a Princess Belle nightlight up until she was thirteen before she stopped using it, because big girls weren't supposed to be afraid of the dark. It took her a year to be able to sleep more than a few hours at a time after she got rid of it, and now, somehow, Mirkwood had brought the fear back. Now it was worse than when she was a kid, because there were _real_ fucking monsters out there, and she was actually hearing things, and she couldn't just flip the lightswitch on when the fire wasn't enough.

“ _What are you doing here, Ira?_ ”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” she muttered.

“ _Mouthy little chit._ ”

A surprised bark of laughter burst out of her at that. Oh, the whispers could snark _back_ , and in her English teacher's voice this time. That's hilarious. That's just great. God, she was going nuts, wasn't she?

“Quiet down, would ye? Some of us are tryin' t'sleep.”

“Aye.”

“Shh! _All_ of ye.”

It was quiet after that, except for the snoring, occasional fart, and growling of stomachs. To help pass the time Ira dug out her little carving knife. The only wood available at the moment were the sticks gathered to feed the fire, so she just grabbed one of those and set to scraping the sides off. Bifur told her to always give it her all whenever she carved, but for the first time since she'd held the knife she didn't actually feel like making anything. Just the act of dragging the blade through the wood was enough to help settle her, even if only a little. By the time her eyes started to burn from being too tired she'd turned her stick into a pile of wood shavings. Ira threw them into the fire before she curled up on her side still facing the fire, her pack used as a pillow.

This couldn't go on long. They _had_ to be coming close to the end of this place, and when they finally got out she was never setting foot back here again.

Without really meaning to Ira turned her head far enough to glance up at the darkness above her, and she could have sworn she saw several pairs of tiny, white dots scattered around above them, glittering wetly from the light of the fire. It was only for a second that she looked, but it was a second too long. Ira felt that old yet familiar cold wave of irrational paranoia that quickly morphed into fear flood her body, and curled up into a tight ball on the ground. She kept her eyes on the fire as she held her breath, pressing her fists against her mouth to bite back a garbled sound trying to build low in her throat.

It was a long while after she felt like she could breathe again without making any noise that between one slow, dry blink and the next it was morning. Ira heaved a gusty sigh of relief even though she felt like shit. The daylight might be super dim, but at least she felt mostly normal again in it. Last night was way worse than usual. Lying still on the ground she wondered if it was going to be like that again later, and for a moment she seriously thought that she would do _anything_ to avoid it. For a moment she even thought about purposely getting them off the path. Just to speed things up, that's all.

She could do it, too. She really could. And why not? All she had to do was tell Thorin that's what's supposed to happen, and he'd follow her lead. Once they were lost everything would be alright.

No, she thought. That's just asking for trouble. Sighing again she rolled over to stretch, but bumped into a body. Ira frowned when she saw Fili lying next to her. The hell was he doing here? He was on his back still asleep, snoring quietly, his head turned towards her, and she looked on over to see Kili sleeping on his other side. Still feeling petty, actually probably more so since she was so tired, she grabbed her stuff, scrambled to her feet, and moved away.

While the rest of the company worked on waking up Ira used the bathroom, and checked the snares. Thorin scowled pensively when she reported back to him that they were empty. Without anything to eat for breakfast packing up camp was a fast process. They trudged along, the only sound being their feet and the tapping of someone's weapon on stone, and the occasional complaint for food. Someone grumbled about being dizzy. It was totally ridiculous, but sometimes Ira swore the tapping synced up with her heartbeat. The day dragged on like that, constant shuffling along broken only by a piss break. She stared off into the trees, making sure to keep the line in her peripheral, and was beginning to wonder if she could digest tree bark when she realized the tapping had stopped.

Stumbling over her feet, she gripped Balin's shoulders in front of her to keep from crashing into him as the company slowly came to a standstill.

“Why have we stopped?” Thorin asked, breaking from the line to move to the front.

“The Path...” Nori muttered, pointing to the ground in front of him. “It's disappeared.”

Ira grinned so wide it hurt. Fucking _finally_.


	17. The Long Overdue Announcement

Hello everyone.

I realize that this is beyond overdue, and I can't apologize enough for the delay in just saying... something sooner, but I am. Every once in a while I get an email where someone has left a kudo or comment, and I'm truly amazed and glad that people are still enjoying the story. Thank you everyone who has shown it such love. I do not intend to leave it unfinished. When I went quiet, at first I was busy, but I was also not particularly in a good place mentally. I still am not, really, which is why there have been no updates for so long. But I finally feel like I CAN say something, at least.

I have no plans for updates soon, but I don't want to leave things unfinished. I want Ira to reach the end of this journey with you. I'm sorry if posting this gave anyone false hope, but I feel like something had to be said for why I've been gone so long. Thank you everyone, dearly, for not forgetting, and I hope to post again before too much longer.


End file.
